SH4 Above and Beyond
by Lamby
Summary: Shades of Heroes Series Part 4: Time is running out for the XMen, the option of negotiation has long passed, and so hard action and tricky alliances are needed to bring the crisis to an end, one way or another. AU to X3
1. Chapter 1

# Shades of Heroes Series Part 4: Time is running out for the X-Men, the option of negotiation has long passed, and so hard action and tricky alliances are needed to bring the crisis to an end, one way or another…AU to X3#

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze is mine, Marvel retain all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**Above and Beyond: Scene 1**

"That can't be right…"

Gambit opened one red-on-black eye lazily. At the front of the X-Jet Wolverine and Xavier's British field agent Stifle exchanged a worried glance. Whatever it was did not look good. Dell Tucker looked over her shoulder in an action that sent the beads in her braided chestnut hair clattering. Seeing that Gambit was awake she looked past him to where the fourth member of their team was drowsing. Gambit took the hint, stretching weary muscles as he undid his harness and got out of his seat.

"I'll wake her Cherie," he told Stifle, "You jus' keep dis plane in the air, okay?" Stifle nodded just once and then went back to work.

The final member of the team had withdrawn as far as possible into the back of the main section of the jet. Dressed like the others in her X-uniform, she'd pulled her feet up into the seat with her. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach, protecting a wound inflicted by Juggernaut back when all of this was only just beginning. Her face was half-hidden behind long red-gold curls like the trailing branches of a weeping willow. Even sound asleep Blaze's body language was defensive. Gambit had a sneaking suspicion as he took a knee in front of her that not much would change when she woke. He touched her arm, and her eyes opened. As soon as they'd focused they were full of questions.

"We gotta problem," he told her calmly. Blaze tucked her hair behind her bejewelled ears and put her feet to the floor.

"Only one?" she replied snidely as she unbuckled herself and stood with Remy following suit. The Englishwoman had to stretch to reach the overhead compartment and fish out a ration pack for breakfast. She didn't retrieve one for Gambit. "Keep your pants on Rem," she told him as she shouldered past to go to Logan and Stifle. "Though I guess that's a novel concept for you…"

Gritting his teeth, Gambit slowly shook his head at his twenty-five-year-old teammate's slender back. This was gonna take some riding out. She was bad enough after purely accidental encounters between them when they'd forgotten that they weren't seeing each other anymore. This time not only had he deliberately seduced her, it had been for her own good, and it had worked even better than he'd thought. Yet the walls he'd made her build to kick out her empath boyfriend were now sat solid between Gambit and his best friend.

"Try rebooting the launch system…"

"Where are we? We need to find a landing site."

"I'm scanning for possible sites now…"

"Ahem?" Blaze cleared her throat, "I hate to interrupt, but what's up?"

"You wont believe this," Wolverine growled, fighting with the controls as he dropped the jet out of the sky by a few thousand feet. "We're running out of fuel. Fast."

"The good news is we're not over the Atlantic anymore, so we wont get a dunking. But we are going to have to land," Stifle spoke sensibly as Gambit took station behind her.

"You could drop the intake," The Cajun offered helpfully, "Loose a li'l speed but make the juice last longer, non?"

"We did that already," Logan pointed out. "Over Newfoundland when you two were sleepin' like babies. Now we're runnin' on fumes. I'm takin' her down before she realises it and packs up on me. Everybody buckle up."

"Wait!" Stifle tapped a bleeping console, making everyone look at what she had seen. "What's that?"

"Not again," Logan growled to himself as he realised which console it was Stifle was tapping. "We've got company folks."

"Unidentified aircraft, American Airspace is closed to all craft barring US military fighters. Turn around now or we will be forced to open fire," the fighter pilot sounded calm as he spoke to the X-Men from the comfort of his cockpit. It wasn't his ass that was about to get blasted out of the sky. Logan made a growl in the back of his throat and didn't respond, except by taking the jet even lower. There was a nice landing site just a hundred or so miles away. They could make it, if the fighter jets would just give them that chance. The fighter squadron didn't reissue the threat. They fell back to mark and lock on to the unidentified plane, weapons primed and ready.

"Open the hatch!" Blaze demanded, already opening a storage locker and tugging out what looked like abseiling equipment.

"What?" Logan snapped his head round to look at her incredulously. "Why? Blaze no! You'll be sucked out, and the drag will make landing impossible."

"You're always boasting you're a better pilot than Cyke," Blaze goaded. "Prove it and land this heap. Just let me deal with the company." She pulled the harness on over her hips as she spoke, fastened it tight and clipped the rope securely onto a bracket in the floor of the jet.

"You heard de lady," Gambit patted Logan's shoulder amicably, and helped himself to a harness as well. Blaze glared at him as he copied her idea, but it seemed to be the deciding factor in the argument.

"You're both nuts," Logan grumbled, but did as he was told and opened the hatch. Instantly the suction nearly dragged the two X-Men in the harnesses out. Anything not secured down in the body of the jet was sucked right out into the open air, spiralling away from the craft's underbelly. Despite herself Blaze let loose a yip of fear as she saw the ground flashing by so very far beneath them. Then the noise of the jets that were marking them dragged her eyes upwards. There were four of them, four dark shapes in the bright morning sky. As she formed her firepower, they unleashed theirs.

Faster than Blaze could launch an attack, a glowing ace of spades flashed past her and impacted with the missile. The explosion claimed the first of their assailants; he was unable to pull up in time to avoid the debris.

"One down!" Gambit announced by Blaze's side. She narrowed her eyes and threw back her arm. Rolling it forward again with speed she threw her fireball like she was bowling in a cricket game, yelling into the wind, "This one's mine!"

The pilot of the second jet saw the fireball coming and swore, swerving out of the way. The second one hit his wing and ruptured it, sending the jet spiralling out of control. He ejected, but Blaze and Gambit were already focused on the missiles released by the two functioning crafts. They exploded them in unison, dual sets of fireworks illuminating the sky. Blaze overreached when throwing the next whirling ball of fire into the air. It impacted the fuel tank of the second to last jet and blew it out of the sky. Gambit's target followed it, plummeting to the now not so far away ground. Blaze felt herself slipping as Logan groaned, tugging at the unresponsive controls.

"Argh!" she screamed, suddenly airborne and only restrained by the harness rope. The D-ring clasp rattled against the hoop in the X-Jet's floor, straining as the drag tried to suck the girl loose of the vehicle. Logan, unaware of Blaze's distress, plunged the X-Jet into a final dive. Blaze felt herself lifted upwards in the updraft, and the rope couldn't take much more of the extenuating forces. She tried to twist and grab the rope, but her hot hands only made the rope start to blacken and burn.

"Gotcha!" Gambit yelled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her in. Stifle, who had been watching their progress from the co-pilot's seat, hit the controls and closed the ramp behind them. Normal pressure was restored as Gambit and Blaze both tumbled to the floor in a heap.

"I wanna do that again!" Blaze laughed, exhilarated. Gambit shook his head and gave the girl a brief embrace.

"Shall we?" he asked, indicating to the nearest seats. Blaze nodded and happily exchanged abseiling harness for the safer option of seat and seat belts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze is mine, Marvel retain all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**Above and Beyond: Scene 2**

The landing was fast. No matter what Logan and Stifle did, the jet would not slow down. The patch of fairly even scrubland that Wolverine had earmarked for a landing site whistled past underneath the belly of the great black beast. Logan swallowed, flicking some switches in the vain hope that it would do some good. The wooded copse closed in on them with tremendous speed. By some total fluke the jet touched the ground just in front of the tree line, slowing its momentum. The machine bounced on the rough terrain, then sliced into the copse like Wolverine's claws through flesh.

Leaves, branches and wildlife were sprayed everywhere. It was a small miracle they didn't hit a tree trunk. After a few moments of being rattled around like some sadistic roller coaster ride, the jet pitched forwards. The leaf litter filled hollow swallowed the nose of the jet easily. The Blackbird lodged there, totally stuck, just as the engines choked and died with no more fumes to run on. Wolverine pursed his lips in relief, and turned to check on his teammates. None of them had their eyes open.

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A strange light came into both Gambit and Blaze's eyes that sent shivers down Stifle's spine. The two X-Men glanced at each other before crossing the street side by side. Dell turned to Wolverine with a question on her lips. Logan shook his head before she could ask it, and followed the others. She would find out soon enough.

It was too early for most people to be about. As yet the X-Men had no idea about the extent of the curfews that were in place across the military-controlled country as America lay in a continuing state of emergency. The motorbike dealership was deserted. Like a scene out of a western, Blaze and Gambit crossed the forecourt with their eyes wandering over everything. The security on site was minimal, and the four BMW super bikes were just begging to be 'borrowed'.

Climbing aboard two of the bikes, Blaze and Gambit said nothing. From an inside pocket of his traditional trench coat Gambit produced the tools of their trade and shared them with his partner in crime. Wolverine joined them, using a claw to get the engine on his bike running. Gambit turned to hotwire the bike to his right, only to find Stifle already in control. Whatever Dell did, she did it fast and was the first to pull away. Gambit couldn't help but gape after her.

"Down boy," Blaze drawled sarcastically, revving the engine on her bike and following the other British mutant. Standing in her seat she pulled a wheelie, showing off.

"Easier said than done," Gambit grumbled appreciatively, before he followed. Logan shook his head, squatted down low over the handlebars and made an enticing cloud of wheel smoke as he launched his own bike after the others.

They barely made it to the other side of town before the sound of powerful bike engines before curfew was due to end brought the National Guard racing to the scene. The four X-Men pulled up their bikes side by side, revving the engines slightly as the troops veered round the corner to cut them off.

"What is going on?" Blaze gasped to no one in particular.

"Bad news," Logan answered vaguely. "You wanna go up against these guys?"

"Not really," Stifle shook her head, "Not in a populated area." She glanced to where curtains were already twitching in flats and houses.

"Dis way!" Gambit exclaimed, twisting his bike around sharply and lifting himself forwards and up. It was almost as if he was egging the bike on with every ounce of muscle and will he possessed. His trench coat billowed out behind him like a flapping cape from some comic-book hero. The others didn't wait for him to check back to see if they were following. They similarly manhandled their bikes and followed the Cajun.

Gambit had quickly realised that the National Guard was made up of foot soldiers, unable to keep up with the bikes, and jeeps that would be forced to keep to the main roads. He led the X-Men down a side street and sharp left into an alley. The alley spat them out, along with white shreds of paper and other trash their passage disturbed, back onto a main highway. The jeeps of the Guard screeched round the corner, their drivers struggling to correct the oversteer on the clumsy 4x4s. Weapons fire followed, making all the X-Men duck in their saddles. Gambit spotted another alley to the left again, not far up the road. He headed for it single-mindedly, hoping the others would follow. They did.

The walls of the alleyway closed in around them, muffling the sound of gunfire and making the bike engines seem a thousand times louder. Gambit reacted instantly to the way ahead being blocked by a wire mesh fence. Standing and riding without hands, he pulled a card out of his pocket and charged it. Glowing with power, the card streaked through the air and blew a substantial hole in the mesh. Gambit drove through without flinching and onwards into another clear road.

At the back of the group, Logan was not to be outdone. He extended his claws and sliced upwards. Adimantium seared through the fire escape overhead, bringing it crashing down behind them. He heard the shouts of dismay from the men pursuing them and allowed himself a small smile, but they weren't out of the woods yet. He steered around the end of the alley to flash past Blaze who had turned her bike and stopped in the middle of the road.

Rubbing her hands together gleefully, Blaze waited until the jeeps were coming round the corner towards them before she attempted to barricade the way. Fire didn't leap from her hands only to die on the cold asphalt. Rather she had sensed a gas main crossing under the roadway, and was focusing her powers on the fuel. She could feel it pulsing, getting hotter as she held out her hands towards it. Her brown eyes dilated slightly as she lifted her arms. The gas main erupted like an orange and blue volcano fissure in the road. Flames taller than the jeeps blocked the way, and the screeching of breaks on the other side suggested it had halted their passage. Blaze turned her bike and raced to join the others.

They broke out of town into the open countryside, and with no signs of further pursuit they felt they could all breathe a little easier. Still it wasn't over yet, and all of them wanted to put more distance between them and the chaos behind them before they stopped to think about what was going on. Wolverine led them off-road down a track that was little more than compounded dirt. They reached the crest of a hill without incident by snaking up its face single file. When they looked over the brow for the first time, it seemed the whole world was at their feet. The slope was steeper than the incline and the track dissipated into a wide, rough and riveted watercourse, alternatively gravely and muddy. Getting down was going to be interesting.

Wolverine went first, eyes always on where he was putting his tyre next. Stifle gave him a bit of a head start then set off after him. Snaking down the hillside was near impossible with the gradient. Instead the X-Men had to adapt a rushing headlong approach that sent the wind shrieking past their ears. Gambit followed Stifle, again a little way behind to give the brunette room to manoeuvre. Blaze followed him, leaning back in the saddle to compensate for the acute angle.

The bike was heavy, immovable and stubborn. Blaze battled it resolutely, concentring so absolutely on it that the others could have been abducted by aliens and she wouldn't have noticed. A large rock, more of a small boulder if the truth were told, nearly unseated her. Sheets of shifting dirt and gravel moved under the wheels, preventing them from getting a purchase. Her arms and legs ached with the effort. The wound from Juggernaut across her stomach throbbed incessantly.

Suddenly the track disappeared in front of her into a steep gully barely as wide as the bike's tyre. The front wheel went down but the back one snagged and slipped sideways. Off-track the ground was slimy with mud and wet grass. The back wheel had nothing to grip, and without Blaze's weight to help as she was pitched forward by the gully, the rear of the bike twisted and fell. Blaze knew she was falling before she went over. There was nothing she could do to prevent it as the bike crashed down and the earth rose up to meet her. Letting go as soon as she knew she was a goner, she managed to roll clear. Both bike and girl hit the ground with a thwack and started careering down the hill in a slide.

Hearing the tumbling of earth, rocks and machinery behind him, Logan turned. If it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing no one might have noticed that Blaze was down. Gambit and Stifle twisted in their saddles to see what Logan was looking at. The scree created a dirt cloud that was obvious to its origins. It was all the cry for help Remy needed as he manfully whipped his bike round and ploughed back up the hill.

By the time he reached her and stopped the bike, parked it and jumped down, Blaze was sat on the ground looking bemused.

"Chere, you okay?" he asked frantically.

"Fine," Blaze stated, ignoring his offered hand and standing up by herself. She dusted her uniform off briskly, then put a hand to her injured stomach and touched it wincing.

"Don't look fine. You sure…" Gambit pressed, going towards her.

"I said I'm fine," Blaze snapped, dropping her hand from her stomach and looking for her bike. It has skidded a good three or four meters further than she had, and rolled a little. It was looking rather sorry for itself now, facing back uphill and covered in dirt, dents and foliage. Gambit reached the bike as she did, and it took both of them to heave it back upright. Blaze got back on without fear. She'd had, and caused, much bigger crashes than that one. However when she started the engine it didn't respond.

"Attends," Gambit interrupted in French as Blaze went to give it more juice. "Laura wait!" Blaze glowered at him, but Remy was oblivious. He was too busy lifting off body panels with the help if his kinetic powers to examine the contents underneath. Belatedly he stood up and shook his head of unruly red-brown hair. "You done it again Cherie, another write-off to add to your collection. Ain't no way dis gonna start again, at least not wit'out no tools an' a few hours solderin'."

"Why not?" Blaze pouted, climbing down.

"Frame's twisted, transmission's trashed, an' the ABS snapped," Gambit told her frankly.

"Fine, I'll ride with Logan," Blaze retorted back, not meeting Gambit's eyes.

"Who you t'ink you is Chere, Quicksilver? You best get runnin' if you gonna catch Wolverine," Gambit pointed out. Blaze glanced down the hill only to see that Remy was right. After seeing that Blaze was okay, Wolverine's stubborn urgency had pushed him to keep going. He and Stifle were already pressing on ahead. Irate and bristling, Blaze kicked a lump of stone away from her. Gambit ignored her and pushed the trashed bike over sideways and let it crash to the ground. "You gonna toast dis so we can get goin'?" he asked her sensibly. Blaze looked at the fallen bike and clicked her fingers. The machine erupted into lapping orange flames.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze is mine, Marvel retain all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

Above and Beyond: Scene 3 

"Go on then," Blaze pressed, "I thought you wanted to get going?"

"Wait Laura," Gambit moved to stand between her and the one remaining bike. "Dis gotta end now, there too much goin' on. Jus' get it outta your system already mon Amie."

"Mon Amie?" Blaze laughed it off coarsely, trying to walk past him haughtily. He grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Non Cherie, I ain't waiting dis one out 'til you get your head straight an' forgive us."

"Us!" Blaze snapped. "Its you I have the problem with Cajun, not me."

"Sure it is Chere," Gambit argued, his accent getting broader as he got angrier. "You ain't feelin' guilty at all dat you were off wit' dat boy," he slurred the word 'boy' into an insult, making Blaze flush with anger. "While your friends an' les enfants all in trouble! Dey gonna be exterminated Blaze! Executed by de military jus' 'cause dey mutants!"

"I know!" Blaze screamed at him, "I know all that crap! I wasn't forgetting all of you, I was…forgetting myself. Shit Gambit, what you did really hurt me. Not because of Indigo either, but because…" she tailed off, dropping her guard a little for the first time. "Damn it, I can't explain it… I shouldn't have to explain it either, not to you Rem."

"You don't Laura…"

"Will you please stop calling me that?" Blaze demanded.

"Pardon Blaze," Gambit chuckled, rolling his eyes, "You don't get no less volatile Petite."

"You know when Ilehana told you to go read a dictionary to improve your vocabulary, she didn't actually mean it. She was only pointing out that swearing every two seconds during training was a bit uncalled for."

"Tres amusant Petite," Gambit replied, taking hold of Blaze's jaw gently between a finger and thumb. "The tattoos is fadin'."

"You think so?" Blaze sounded hopeful. The mottled lines that Indigo, the empathic mutant that Blaze had been involved with, had left all over Blaze wherever her had touched her were not supposed to be permanent. Yet Blaze had still been worrying that Indigo might have lied to her about the tangled copper colour vines like he had about other aspects of his powers. Certainly the Chinese dragon symbols he'd given to Stifle were marks her wrists would always carry.

"Sure," Remy smiled cheekily, "They blendin' in wit' the freckles."

"I do not have freckles," Blaze objected comically, giving Remy a playful punch on the arm.

"Are we goin' or not?" Gambit asked, rubbing his arm where she'd punched him.

"C'est maintenant ou jamais," Blaze commented flippantly, meaning 'its now or never'. They got back on the bike with Gambit driving and Blaze with her arms coiled around his torso. Remy kept the engine rumbling low as he carefully dropped the bike down the hillside. He felt Blaze rest her head against his back and smiled to himself.

"Hold on Petite! We got some serious catchin' up to do," he told her, and felt her squeeze him tighter in return. His smile broke into a grin as he revved the engine and flashed through the gears. The bike shot forwards down the last few meters of hillside and out across the flatter terrain. They flew over the landscape in hot pursuit of Stifle and Wolverine. It didn't take them long to catch up.

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Charles Xavier watched his lean, blonde haired, blue-eyed daughter with a great deal of concern and even apprehension. He didn't doubt that she knew he was there, but neither of them made any attempt to speak to the other. They were living in purgatory, trapped in their own home and their own heads. GRSO guards patrolled the perimeter endlessly, armed with a melody of weaponry. There was no time of day or night when the Xaviers were left unwatched by their silent tormentors.

Both Xaviers wore choking collars that contained neural inhibitors that blocked their telepathic skill. Rigged with explosives in case of tampering, they also contained location transmitters. A border had been set up by the soldiers consisting of small receivers set into stakes and nailed to walls inside. That was the limit of where the Xaviers could go. Pass beyond those markers and the collar would issue a powerful, excruciating electric shock.

The animorphing Ilehana had opted to stand by her father when all her teammates were leaving to take the school's pupils into hiding. Now she spent her days patrolling the transmitter boundary as a wolf, pacing endlessly with the same ground-eating lope. Captivity was sapping her spirit, and worst of all even if she could get away, she would leave her father to bare the brunt of their captor's wrath. It was no kind of life, and it was breaking Charles' already tormented heart.

Now it was dark. Rain pelted the massive floor-to-ceiling paned glass windows in the room where Storm used to like teaching her classes. Of course Ororo was already imprisoned elsewhere, they almost all were, the X-Men. Lightning briefly silhouetted the sentries outside, but it was not of Storm's making. The illumination lit up the room, lifting the gloom that clad Xavier's daughter. Ilehana was dressed in a white vest top and grey sweatpants, with her blonde hair tied in a tidy ponytail at the back of her neck. Barefoot, feet shoulder-width apart, she blankly lifted weights in each hand. Devoid of the lower levels or any real way to stretch her legs, she had resorted to this form of training to keep fit. And, Charles suspected, to keep her mind numb. She dripped sweat, her brow mottled with the moisture as she gasped for air, pushing herself too far.

Charles struggled for something to say. How to express his concern without appearing disapproving or smothering to his independently minded daughter. Fortunately though, someone else had already found the words he was looking for, "Maybe you had enough workin' out, eh Cherie?" Lightning flashed again as both Xaviers looked in the direction of the voice. Vixen's weights hit the floor with a thud that reverberated through the building. At the back of the room Gambit flashed a charming smile, whilst besides him perched on a mahogany dresser, Blaze grinned cheekily.

"How did you…" the Professor started, as Ilehana asked, "What are you…" Bother tailed off, happy not to understand if it meant seeing a friendly face or two.

"We need a few bits," Blaze explained with a wave of her hand. "Have they got into the lower levels yet?"

"They have the use of the elevator," the Professor began, "But as far as we are aware they have not managed to open any of the doors in the subbasement itself. The adimantium shielding we installed, along with Beast and Iceman's anti-spyware programming, appears to be working so far. I wish we knew more, but Ilehana and myself are feeling a little removed from the world around us…" Xavier indicated to the metal collar around his neck with sadness in his kindly blue eyes. Gambit and Blaze glanced at each other, and exchanged a nod. The Cajun handed his former apprentice a package from a pocket on his coat, then twirled a lockpick in his fingers deftly.

"Then is 'bout time we do somet'ing 'bout that," he boasted confidently.

"Think I'll go take a peek and see what a mess they've created downstairs," Blaze decided.

"Don't get caught Cherie," Gambit warned her jokingly.

"Why? You not gonna come dashing to my rescue?" Blaze laughed in reply, and disappeared.

"You two are getting along extraordinarily well," Xavier commented lightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. Ilehana too seemed a little entertained, and the air in the mansion somehow felt a whole lot less oppressive than it had in a long while.

"Huh," Remy snorted indignantly, "Don't worry, it won't last. Mind if I be takin' a look at them fetchin' collars o' yours?"

"They are tamper-proofed, Gambit, and wired with explosives," the Professor warned him.

"You jus' stick wit' teachin' les enfants Professor, an' leave de explosives to Gambit, oui?" Remy was not phased in the slightest. His grin was infectious, as Xavier caught some of the thief's reckless spirit and nodded his agreement to the request.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: XU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze is mine, Marvel retain all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**Above and Beyond: Scene 4**

Blaze took a crowbar to the lift and somehow wiggled it until it sat in a small gap between the doors. Raising a foot she gave the crowbar an almighty kick, and then another. The doors parted, not by a great deal, but enough for a small and very determined thief to force her way through. It was a long way down. Blaze didn't bother to look down the lift shaft. She concentrated entirely on problems as she was faced with them, be they lack of handholds or a ledge that was too narrow for her feet. She kept her breathing and her movements to the same rhythm, and so made steady progress downwards.

The lift car was at the bottom of the shaft. With relief that the physical exertions were over for now, Blaze stepped onto the roof silently. To her right there was an air vent in the wall. It was a weak spot in the mansion's design, and so protected with extra security. The metal grill was easily removed with a screwdriver. The blinking lights of the alarm system solidified into clear infrared beams as Blaze cupped her hands together, producing smoke but no fire. Adjusting the security then proved a little too easy, something she would have to fix if ever this was all over.

The vent lead along the walls of the subbasement corridor at head height. Blaze knew exactly where she was crawling. She blindly ignored the two GRSO soldiers working with computer consoles on getting through the Cerebro doors. Instead she kicked at the grill at the far end of the vent, and dropped lithely into the Danger Room control room. Blaze smiled callously as she flicked switches to bring up security camera footage of different parts of the lower levels. She laughed aloud as, to their surprise, the GRSO's 'succeeded' in opening not the Cerebro doors, but the ones behind them and to their left, leading them somewhere else.

"Come on boys," Blaze oozed encouragingly, "Come and play."

Foolishly, the soldiers left their post and went to investigate.

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"Thank you Gambit," Ilehana said with feeling as her collar gave a small hiss and the neurotransmitter died along with the other machine parts. Vixen was suddenly overwhelmed with a colossal broadening of her awareness. Without trying she knew that Gambit was hoping for more than just a verbal thanks for giving her father and herself their powers back. She guessed he'd earned it, and hugged him briefly.

"Hope I'm not interrupting?" Blaze giggled, "Break it up!" An underarm lob tossed a couple of packs of cards tied with elastic bands for Remy to catch two-handed. "Cerebro's all yours until the next guard changeover. I wouldn't go in the Danger Room though, it's a bit of a state in there."

"Don't give the game away mes Amies," Gambit urged them. "They t'ink the collars workin' so long as you don't let dem know otherwise."

"Take care of yourselves," Blaze spoke heartfully, kissing the Professor's cheek.

"Keep us posted?" Gambit asked, lugging some of the equipment Blaze had brought up from the lower levels over his shoulder. The Professor nodded solemnly, Ilehana standing behind his shoulder with a hand on his wheelchair. Then the thieves were gone.

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"Now what?" Wolverine asked gutturally as Blaze and Gambit dropped silently over the wall that surrounded the mansion's grounds.

"We go rescue the others," Blaze stated the obvious.

"How? We don't know where they are," Stifle pointed out.

"Mystique?" Gambit suggested, "She said she knew."

"Yeah but how the Hell do we get hold of the chameleon?" Logan was full of questions. Blaze and Gambit both shrugged, they didn't have any answers. Stifle pressed her lips together and scowled. Then she replied, "I can reach that mother of all bitches for you."

"You can?" Wolverine was knocked back and he didn't like it, "Why? How?"

"I used to be in the Brotherhood, way back when. Mystique helped train me, if you can call it that. Providing she's still listening to old frequencies we used, which knowing Mystique she will be, I can reach her." Stifle did not sound happy about the idea of being reunited with her former tutor, but none of the others could blame her for that. None of them were keen on this idea either, but they didn't exactly have a whole lot of choices.

"Old frequencies?" Blaze wanted the point clarifying.

"I cut my ties with them a long time ago," Stifle replied. "They are bound to be using new communication codes and frequencies by now. Mystique, I'm hoping, is still pedantic enough to keep an eye on the old methods."

"You guys got radio equipment?" Wolverine demanded. A pair of feral brown eyes, a pair of cold grey ones and a pair of red-on-black eyes fell on Blaze. She pouted and folded her arms, "Of course I did. It was heavy and I had to climb up the lift shaft carrying it because those dratted soldiers had cross-wired the frigging lift. I'm sure Vix can fix it, but I sure as Hell couldn't."

"Where were you?" Stifle raised an eyebrow at Gambit.

"Copping off with Logan's missus," Blaze teased flatly. Gambit looked indignant whilst Logan's face turned thunderous. Sensing an imminent scrap over Ilehana, Blaze clapped her hands together, "C'mon, whatever we do we can't stay here people." Realising the severity of their exposed position, the X-Men fell silent, grabbed the equipment and melted away into the countryside.

Inside the mansion, Xavier chuckled to himself dryly. If he was right, then General William Kincaid, the instigator of the plot to bring down the President and the X-Men in one fell swoop, had a whole lot of trouble heading his way…

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What Stifle said to Mystique when eventually she made contact, the others never found out. Certainly there was no love lost between the former mentor and student. Whatever the conversation, Mystique revealed she was in Seattle, and gave Stifle an address to meet her at, an apartment down a back alley that was as safe as anywhere these days. All scheduled flights were grounded, so instead the team 'borrowed' a private Lear jet and ran the gauntlet of possible military contact as they flew across country. In Cerebro Xavier did all he could to keep the jet unnoticed, and before long they had landed successfully.

Apart from being down an alley swimming in trash, rainwater and no one wanted to know what else, the apartment turned out to be quite splendid. Up what appeared to be a nondescript fire exit around the back of a drugs store, a solid door gave way to a plain corridor, at the end of which was another door. Through this door was a lush, oriental-style pad with beautiful furnishings and succinct mood lighting. It smelt of burning incense and oozed comfort with every soft drape of red silk fabric, every curvaceous reclining chaise longue. It would seem Mystique did not like to 'hide-out' without a generous helping of style. There was no sign of Mystique herself, so the X-Men settled to wait.

Stifle opted to take first watch, clearly on edge at the thought of the upcoming reunion. She went to hover outside in the alleyway where she could keep a clear view of the comings and goings up in the street to the front of the building. After checking the cupboards in the kitchen and finding they were bare, Remy went back out again to get supplies. It was dawn when he made it back. The crimson sash across the horizon was steadily growing, and the wind had picked up to chase the cotton-wool clouds across the sky. Stifle nodded to him as he passed her, Mystique hadn't appeared yet then.

Inside Logan was flaked out on a red sofa, looking ridiculously of place and yet somehow completely at home amidst the Asian furnishings. If Gambit didn't know better, he'd have sworn Logan must have spent time in China or Japan, maybe both. Logan had showered and changed into clothes he'd found in one of the many other rooms. The dark brown t-shirt and black sweatpants could have been made for him, though his feet were bare.

"Beer?" Gambit asked, offering Logan two bottles to uncap. Logan obliged before handing one back. The feral raised an eyebrow at Remy's 'shopping'. The Cajun shrugged, explaining, "Everywhere's shut." Logan reached forward and took a large packet of tortilla chips from the pile of junk Remy dropped on the low table in front of them both.

"So you robbed a convenience store?" Logan pressed, trying to make the unflappable Cajun react.

"If I'd had any cash I would've left it," stated Remy.

"Couldn't you have tapped an ATM?"

"An' dat would have bin so much better because?" Gambit returned.

"Good point," Logan decided, putting his feet on the solid hardwood table and leaning back with his chips and his beer. Gambit left him to it. Going into the master bedroom he stripped off his uniform and went to the en-suite. It was a wet room, fully tiled with shower fittings on the wall and drain in the floor, pretty luxurious if you liked that kind of thing. The door wasn't locked as Gambit went in, but the room was thick with steam. At first Gambit thought Logan must not have turned the extractor fan on. The patter of water told him otherwise.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze is mine, Marvel retain all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**Above and Beyond: Scene 5**

"Sorry mon Chere," he apologised, catching sight of Blaze's head and bare shoulders through the warm mist. Her eyes were closed, face raised to the shower as her hands ran backwards from her face through her wet hair. "Gambit not know you were in here."

"S'okay," Blaze gargled, "You can do my back." She chucked something at him that he caught with a flourish. It was a white bar of soap, smelling mildly of vanilla and speckled with little bubbles on the surface.

"Since when am I gonna ever pass up on dat?" Gambit wondered out loud. Blaze didn't reply; she was too busy swigging from a silver hip flask. Gambit frowned, "Where you get the liquor Petite?"

"Bedside table drawer," she replied flippantly. "Just don't tell Logan, I told him I couldn't find any alcohol."

"You screwed up Cherie…"

"Takes one to know one."

"When you start drinkin' again anyway? I t'ought your liver was shot."

Blaze didn't answer, not straight away anyway. She was having a hard time rationalising it to herself as it was, without debating it with her walking conscience aka Remy le Beau. She'd started drinking again when her recent ex Indigo, an empath, had #suggested# she should. He'd made it feel good again. It wasn't a happy knowledge, and she knew she'd pay later for her indulgences, but for now she was pushing it all from her mind.

"Are you coming in, or are you just going to watch?" Blaze finally asked, looking over at him through the tendrils of sinuous steam. Provocatively shifting her body she pouted, saying, "C'mon Remy, live a little. We might all be dead tomorrow."

"What you playin' at Laura?" Gambit wondered, taking a few steps towards her over the slippery cold tiles. Blaze reached out a hand and took the soap out of his palm. Her long hair and eyelashes were that much darker in the water, making her seem even paler. Her skin was flawless, her eyes taunting him, daring him to look away from her face and down at the rest of her.

"Payback," Blaze murmured as Gambit stepped under the flow of hot water. He gasped as it scalded him, why did she have to have it so hot? Then Remy ran his fingers back through his tangled mop of red-brown hair in an action that pulled the muscles in his arms and across his torso tight. When he put his arms down again, Blaze was stood very close, but not quite touching. She smiled coyly at him and gave him back the soap. Then slowly, elegantly, she turned around. Very gently, Remy lifted her wet hair from the nape of her neck and placed it over her left hand shoulder. Only then did he start to touch her, rubbing the thick lather of the soap over her soft skin in a careful circular motion. Blaze sighed, and her eyes rolled back in their sockets. Payback is good, Blaze thought, and this is only just the start…

…They sat on the floor of the shower, water still pouring down on them like a tropical rainstorm, steam like dragon's breath enveloping them completely in this world apart from everything else they knew. Gambit had his back to the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. His eyes were closed, as were Blaze's as she sat between his limbs with her head back against his shoulder, long silken throat exposed. They both breathed the vapour in deeply, neither saying a word. Payback was good, Remy thought, I should misbehave more often…

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Mystique finally appeared on Logan's watch. He brought her into the apartment with minimal ceremony. Instantly on seeing her old mentor again, Stifle clamped down on Mystique's powers with her own mutation-disabling ability. Mystique accepted the rough treatment with an abrupt dignity. A haughty sneer filled her blue features as she set her eyes upon Magneto's one-time 'daughter'. Stifle only responded by folding her arms defensively and staring Mystique down. It's a good job, Stifle thought, that I've had time to shower, change, nap and eat something. I don't think I could stomach this bitch without it.

Gambit and Blaze came in from the kitchen at the sound of Mystique's arrival. Like Logan, both of the ex-thieves and Stifle had found clothes to fit them in the apartment's other rooms. Gambit wore a grey vest and dark blue sweatpants. Blaze had on a v-necked, deep green, patterned wrap-over dress. Stifle wore blue jeans and a black skinny t-shirt. Mystique looked them all over coolly, her sneer not dropping once.

"Nice to see you've made yourselves at home," the shapeshifter decided in her million enslaved voices. "Benefit of having used all of your bodies, one way or another, I know what size clothes you all wear." Her eyes wandered over Logan very slowly, dropping lower. Wolverine folded his arms and scowled.

"If you were that good a host Mystique," the feral growled, "You would've laid on a meal. Now get on with it, tell us what you know."

"Charming as always, Wolverine," the changeling drawled. She moved predatorily to perch on the chaise longue, leaning back into its embrace with her long legs crossed. No one else moved, except for Gambit who took a deck of cards from his pocket and started to shuffle them. Mystique blanched briefly, then steeled herself and began, "The man behind this is General William Kincaid. His reasons are the usual, human superiority and enslavement or death for all mutants. Why you X-Men continue to persevere in your ridiculous ideals of coexistence when men like Kincaid…"

"Save it," snapped Logan, "Keep to the point."

"Fine," Mystique drawled. "Kincaid has his puppet politicians keeping the President's seat warm in DC. They are passing legislation as Kincaid sees fit. Make no mistake, Kincaid and those he answers to are in complete control of this country."

"What about the other X-Men?" Blaze demanded.

"I was getting to that," griped Mystique. "Most mutants Kincaid has arrested under his new protocols are being incarcerated at military detention centres. They are kept down through violence and intimidation. However those mutants not so easily subdued, such as the X-Men and the Brotherhood, have been treated differently.

"Kincaid has a ship," continued Mystique, "A vast military craft stationed at anchor in international waters where he can do what the Hell he likes, without fear of repercussions from the international community. That's his base of operations, out in the Pacific Ocean. That's where he's keeping our associates."

"On a boat?" Wolverine argued, "An' the X-Men are just taking it like some kinda cruise vacation? I don't think so, not even Cyke would stoop that low."

"Of course not," Mystique returned dryly. "I saw Iceman being taken on board. He was in some sort of induced coma. I'd imagine that's how Kincaid is storing them all. I don't doubt that he also has the means to wake them again. He has been torturing them for information though, X-Men and Brotherhood alike."

"How is it, Mystique, that you're so sure on parts of this story, and yet others you're purely prognosticating?" Stifle asked coldly.

"My contact only has access to certain parts of the ship…" Mystique began.

"Your contact?" Wolverine enquired, raising a hairy eyebrow, "How do you mean?"

"She means she's been involved with one of Kincaid's men," Blaze filled in, meeting Mystique's eyes.

"How do you come to that conclusion?" Stifle wanted to be sure.

"Because its what Blaze would have done," Mystique answered wryly. "I know all about your liaisons with Pyro, Blaze. Make no mistake, you'll answer for that when we are done here."

"Bring it on," Blaze challenged, "I've kicked your backside before Mystique."

"Can we keep to the damn point here?" Wolverine growled. "What are you proposing we do? Board the ship?"

"Absolutely," Mystique replied. "I have already secured us our transportation."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze is mine, Marvel retain all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**Above and Beyond: Scene 6**

"You call that a boat?" Wolverine asked a short while later in a tumbled down wooden boathouse on the docks. He poked the half deflated black rubber dinghy with a foot. It squelched pathetically. There were no seats and nothing to hold on to beyond some tattered lengths of rope around the rim. The outboard motor looked like it ran on hamster-power, as in a child's furry rodent pet running in its cage wheel could outstrip this thing for drive.

"I sin more seaworthy chicken coops than dis," Remy pointed out. He went to one knee and lifted off the cover panel on the motor, before taking a deep breath inwards.

"That sounds bad," Stifle enquired, "What's wrong?"

"Outboard's shot, Mystique," Gambit groused, "They gonna hear us eight miles off, if we even get it in the damn water."

"It was the best I could arrange," Mystique griped right back. "If you hadn't lost the X-Jet…"

"We didn't lose it," Blaze looked ill at even the thought of going out to sea on the flimsy vessel. "It ran out of fuel."

"If Gambit and Wolverine had come to help when I first asked, the jet wouldn't have run out of fuel," Mystique exclaimed righteously. She turned to Gambit, folding her arms across her blue scaly chest, "You've got until sunset to fix it."

"You ain't runnin' dis operation Mystique."

"To the contrary, without me there is no operation," argued the changeling.

"Technically you've told us all we need to know. You're free to leave," Stifle wanted to make the point crystal clear.

"I'm going nowhere, someone has to look after the interests of the Brotherhood of Mutants."

"Fine, just shut up and do as you're told for a change," Logan agreed.

"Alright," Mystique relented, "But if I'm not in charge, who is?"

The X-Men looked at each other with curious expressions. Logan shook his head, scratched the nape of his neck, turned and walked out. Gambit went back to fiddling with the motor. Mystique looked from one man to the other in expectation. Had some secret battle for power just been won, and if so by whom? She couldn't comprehend that exactly the opposite had happened. They weren't going to elect a leader only for Mystique to sink her claws into them. This was teamwork. Instead, thinking that Logan was the more likely winner, Mystique headed after the feral.

Blaze and Stifle watched Mystique go after Logan, and then both turned to see Gambit hard at work. The young women's eyes met, a query in Stifle's hard grey ones answered by an assent of Blaze's head. The redhead turned neatly and walked away. Stifle went to one knee besides Gambit and asked, "What can I do?"

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Kincaid bit into a green apple hard, tasting the instant influx of tangy juice on his tongue. He chewed his bite carefully, diligently, before swallowing. Then he paused, his eyes flickering over the reports in front of him on his desk. The Lieutenant Colonel who had written the report stood silently to attention at the other side of the desk. Around them the great beast of a ship shivered, rattled and creaked. It was so massive they could not feel the movement as the sea urged under it. How long that would last, Kincaid did not know.

The weather was closing in fast, coming from offshore, beyond the ship in the Pacific Ocean. The USS Eliminator, manned by just short of a thousand souls, was the largest prison ship ever constructed. Right now, the wind howled around her gun towers and whipped the flags into an undeniable frenzy. Rain pelted the deck in drops twice their normal size. Waves bashed the sides of the grey monstrosity as though angrily swatting flies. They never should have gotten the Weather Witch out of her induced slumber.

The report detailed those failings. Their scientists had believed that Storm would have need of direct contact with the weather to control it, fresh air for want of a better term. Apparently this was not so. Even waking her in a dark and windowless room had not stopped her. Ororo Munroe had created a miniature tempest in the chamber, blinded by claustrophobia, which had forced all military personnel to leave. They had been forced to dart her like a wild animal to bring her back under control. Right now she was shelved again, deep in unconscious slumber. Kincaid was not a happy man.

"Is the weather outside something to do with this?" he asked his junior.

"We don't know sir," was the response. "There was a weather front brewing, but it wasn't moving this fast or anywhere near this energetic. Perhaps Storm just gave it a push."

"Yet for all this trouble, we got no useful information out of her at all?" Kincaid demanded.

"No sir, nothing," thunder boomed outside, contradicting the soldier.

"Disappointing," Kincaid decided, taking another bite from his apple. He continued to speak with his mouth full. "But not as bad as it could have been. Bad weather or not, the balls are rolling. As soon as this trial of our so-called President is over, the X-Men will be the first to die."

"How long sir?"

"Days, if that," Kincaid was positive. "I've instructed the judge not to dilly dally over the proceedings. No one cares if this trial is fair or not, I just want it done with."

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Dressed again in their black uniforms, gloves and balaclavas with scuba-like masks on their heads ready to pull down to keep the spray from their eyes, the X-Men reported for action. Stifle lashed a small black waterproof rucksack to the deck on her side of the newly rejuvenated dinghy, whilst Logan did the same on his side. Medical supplies, technical equipment, a trench coat and spare playing cards, it was all things they couldn't do without. A wan-looking Blaze spoke to Gambit in a subdued voice. Looking up, Logan gave Mystique a quizzical glace. She was still insisting on coming along for the ride.

"Aren't you gonna be cold?" he asked her, "Not to mention you stand out from the crowd a little." Mystique glowered at him, whilst at the same time she used her powers. She became a goggled and balaclava clad youth, though her black uniform was noticeable for its lack of an X-insignia. Logan shrugged and turned his back on the chameleon.

"Logan, you heaviest so get in the bow," Gambit instructed, the Swamp Rat having the most boating knowledge of them all. "Mystique an' Stifle take port an' starboard. I'm drivin', Blaze can come in the stern wit' me to try an' balance Logan's metal bones out. Anyone gotta problem wit' dat?"

"Yep," griped Blaze, "After I drown I know who's responsible Rem. I'll come back and haunt you so badly…"

"You ain't gonna drown," Gambit told her sincerely. "You ain't even gonna get wet, Chere. Well, not very wet anyway. Get in now, you can be ballast while we launch dis hunk o' junk."

"Ballast, that's all I am to you now," Blaze grumbled, not looking any more appeased. She still did as she was told, and climbed into the dinghy. Gambit and Stifle had lifted the wreck onto a wheeled tow frame earlier in the day. Now it was dark outside, and raining, as the three X-Men and Mystique opened the boathouse doors and pushed the trolley down the jetty to the ocean. Blaze hunkered down in the middle of the dinghy, as if by making herself smaller she would feel more secure.

They walked the tow frame into the black, choppy water until the dinghy started to float. Gambit made Logan get in last to stop him overturning the boat whilst only Blaze was in it. Even with the other four in position, the dinghy still bucked wildly as the adimantium-boned man heaved himself aboard. Gambit didn't give Blaze chance to panic. As soon as Logan was more in than out, Remy pulled the chain rapidly to start the motor. It thrummed sweetly before the propeller caught true, and they were off. Five masked faces stared stoically into the storm, and the blackness of the night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze is mine, Marvel retain all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**Above and Beyond: Scene 7**

About a hundred metres off shore the wind suddenly picked up. It was a prevailing wind from the sea, heading to the land. It slowed their progress, blowing in their faces, showering them with salt spray and making the rain pelt horizontally into them. The black dinghy and black uniforms were slick like sealskins in the darkness. The waves rose higher, the swell increased to three or four feet. Gambit hung grimly onto the tiller, muscles bunched across his shoulders and down his arm as he tired to keep the dinghy going forwards. Underneath the surface, currents tugged riotously to try and pull the ten-foot boat off course.

Remy used Wolverine's weight at the front like a battering ram, forcing their way through the never-ending waves. The water broke over the bow in a froth of white and silver spray. Visibility was down to maybe a metre either side of the vessel due to the spray cascading back over the boat's flanks. Gambit could see Stifle and Mystique, both scanning the darkness for a sign of Kincaid's vessel, both hanging on grimly against the possibility over being washed overboard. Gambit figured he'd go back for Stifle, but if Mystique lost her handhold, she was definitely on her own.

The bottom of the dinghy was now swimming with sea and rainwater. The precipitation was falling so hard it was splashing up again after impacting with the sea surface. Gambit glanced to Blaze, wiping his visor on the back of his sleeve. He couldn't see her expression as she wore the same balaclava and mask he did. He didn't need to see though; he knew from her body language that her eyes were closed as she held onto a guide rope with two hands. Gambit knew that not looking where she was going would only make her more terrified and seasick.

Remy put a hand to Blaze's shoulder in reassurance. It was a sentiment he didn't truly feel. This was insane. In weather like this was becoming, they could sail five metres away from the giant ship and miss it. This was going to get them all killed. Lost at sea in a storm when the X-Men were all depending on them to stop the rot. The Cajun squeezed Blaze's shoulder hard, more to reassure himself than the Englishwoman.

Terrified and trembling, hating the water, despising being cold and wet in this dark and turbulent oblivion, Blaze somehow still managed to put a hand on Gambit's. A quick breathe inwards through the saturated balaclava and she moved before she had time to think about it. She scooted sideways, moving closer to Remy. Peeling back the balaclava from her mouth, she reached up to his ear to speak to him.

"You're off course! Head about five degrees left!" she had to yell to make herself heard. She didn't need to see Gambit's face to know he was looking at her strangely. The truth was that Kincaid's ship had big engines, and big engines need large amounts of flammable fuel. Blaze could just about sense the ship as though its fuel was a siren calling out to her. It was too complicated to explain over the noise of the storm, so Blaze just bawled, "Fuel, lots of, that way!"

Gambit nodded and made the course adjustment. Blaze pulled her mask down again with a grimace. Rather than have to keep screaming instructions over the storm to direct her friend to the fuel she had sensed, she put a hand on his on the tiller. Taking the hint, Gambit slipped her hand under his, and then gave her a brief lesson in cause and effect with the boat's steering. Secretly he was hoping her driving here would be better than it was behind a conventional wheel.

Five minutes later they suddenly saw it, a great grey monster looming up out of the water. They approached the USS Eliminator on the lea side, using its colossal mass to cut out the worst of the weather. Gambit idled the dinghy in to the flank of the vessel. Faces turned upwards, the would-be boarders ogled at the scale of the next task they had set themselves. Somehow they had to get up on deck. Pirates of the Caribbean this was definitely not.

First things first, they didn't want to lose their only means of escape. Logan made a score with his claws down the side of the great ship, through which Stifle looped a mooring rope. The dinghy bumped against the side of the ship as the rope was pulled taunt. Mystique unlashed the rucksacks and opened them up. From within she pulled out four gas-propelled grappling hooks equipped with ultra strong and lightweight steel rope.

Wolverine and Stifle took a rucksack each for the time being. Gambit, Mystique and Blaze knelt up in the boat to fire the grappling hooks one by one. First time all three caught on the deck high above. Simultaneously the three mutants tugged back on their ropes to test the mooring. They held, and Stifle was readying the fourth for launch. The wire whipped through the air making a hissing noise, yet again the hook caught, and a tug made it secure.

One by one, silent as ghosts, the X-Men stood in the dinghy and started to climb the wire, slithering upwards not unlike snakes in the rainforest undulating up a tree trunk. Despite the howling gale and with the sea cavorting below, rain pelting so hard it stung and lightning periodically searing the sky, they made good progress. Wolverine had his own way of climbing up the side of the ship. After the other X-Men had begun he let his claws slip through his knuckles. Then he glanced to Mystique who was fussing with her rope.

"You comin'?" he shouted over the weather.

"I'll follow," she yelled back in reply. Logan shrugged and left her to it. Reaching as far above his head as he could, he slammed his right claw into the ship. So long as he pushed his weight forwards, he could puncture the panelling all the way up, like climbing a ladder. Off the ground now he used his left claw a bit higher and made a new handhold. Easy, he thought with a snort of determination.

Back in the dinghy, Mystique watched him go. So focused were all four of them that none of them noticed her cutting the rope that held the little boat secure. They would succeed, or she would see all the X-Men in Kincaid's hands. Mystique had little difficulty imagining herself blending in with the crew until there was a trip back to shore she could join. She doubted the X-Men she'd brought along would acclimatise so well to Kincaid's vessel. She reached up and hauled herself clear with the rope, as the little dinghy was graciously swept out to sea. Mystique watched it unblinking for a moment, her yellow eyes flashing in the darkness. Then she looked up and set off after the X-Men.

They were lucky in that they climbed onto the deck behind a military helicopter that was chained to the storm-lashed deck. It offered them a little shelter as they repacked the climbing gear, masks and sodden balaclavas. Gambit donned his infamous trench coat and checked his ammo supply. Stifle and Logan decided to keep the rucksacks between them. Darkly fascinated with the seething ocean now she was far above it, Blaze took a quick look back down whilst the others got organised. She'd done it; she'd survived this far… Her surge of adrenaline and pride in her hydrophobic non-swimmer's accomplishments was suddenly stopped a long with her heart. She grabbed Mystique by the shoulders as she climbed over the edge of the deck and threw the changeling across the slippery surface towards the others, shouting, "What the Hell have you done with the boat?"

"Blaze?" Wolverine asked, with the others looking equally confused.

"The boat, it's gone! Mystique must've let it go!"

"Of course," Mystique grumbled righteously. "It was likely to be seen and compromise the mission. Besides, did you really believe we could transport at the best dazed and confused, at the worst unconscious and badly beaten prisoners of Kincaid in that sorry heap?" The X-Men were quiet, they hadn't thought that far ahead. "We have to gain control of the ship and sail it into port. The only way to end this is to preserve Kincaid's madness and expose it to the entire world. Not unlike how he started this madness with Juggernaut and the X-Men in the first place."

"Not that we have a choice of actions anymore," murmured Stifle angrily. "Okay, so which way to the bridge?"

"I have no idea," Mystique announced. "From this point on, I will be following your lead."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze is mine, Marvel retain all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**Above and Beyond: Scene 8**

Logan sneaked around to the rear of the helicopter, checking for GRSO patrols. Thanks to the storm, there were only two on deck that he could smell, and he sincerely doubted that they could see him. Wolverine signalled to Gambit that his route was clear. The Cajun sprinted forwards to the nearest access door and tried the handle. It was locked, but it had been worth a try. Charging a card, Remy slid the edge into the gap between the reinforced door and frame, just above the handle. Letting go he backed away half a pace and turned his head away to protect his eyes. There was a hiss followed by a pop that lit up the rain briefly with a shower of fuchsia-orange sparks.

Stifle appeared by Gambit's shoulder and preceded him through the door cautiously. The enclosed corridor was ovoid with beige panels and uniform stainless steel supports. Stifle looked down the tunnel each way, worried by how alike each direction looked. Short of using a ball of string, trailing it out behind them like the Grecian hero Theseus had done in the tale of the Minotaur and the Labyrinth, ten minutes in this place would disorientate them completely. However that wasn't the most pressing problem. Someone had heard the bang caused by Gambit's controlled explosion and was coming running.

Stifle ducked back around the door at the sound of the approach and closed it to. When the seaman got to the door onto the deck, he stepped through carelessly. His attention was on the scorch marks and the broken lock, which gave Dell the opportunity she needed. She took hold of the nape of his neck in a pincer-grip, catching his jaw underneath with her other had. The compression on the spinal pressure point dropped the GRSO man completely, rendering him incapacitated. Stifle dragged him out of the way and hid him under a nearby collection of packing crates.

Mystique took one look at the fallen man and assumed his shape. Thus attired she confidently strode through the doorway. Two more of Kincaid's men greeted her with a nod and a smile as she stood in front of the broken door so they wouldn't see it. The carried on down the corridor from left to right, leaving Mystique to bring the X-Men through and send them left rather than right.

Blaze took up the lead, as Logan became rearguard, listening hard for anyone who might be behind them. They were fortunate, maybe twenty-five paces further down the corridor there was an elaborate schematic of the ship on the wall. The plaque was four feet by eight, with colour coded sections and every room, corridor and doorway given a code. Blaze stopped dead in her tracks, causing a mutant traffic jam as she examined the diagrammatic representation.

"Why the tailback?" Logan asked Dell who was in front of him.

"Blaze is looking at a map," Stifle replied, "Why I don't know. I didn't think she was technically minded, and there's no way she'll remember it."

"Wanna bet on dat Cherie?" Gambit offered, "How 'bout if she gets us to where we goin', you buy Gambit dinner?"

"Fine," Stifle agreed, "And if she doesn't, you can buy me dinner for a month, Gambit."

"Getting him to pay a bill is like trying to get blood from Logan," Blaze advised Stifle conspiratively, "Waste of a bet anyway, just tell me where you wanna go."

"The bridge," Mystique replied, "Get me there and I'll get the ship back to port."

"Not on your own you ain't," Logan cut in. "You need chaperoning Mystique, I don't trust you one inch." Stifle looked relieved at Logan's forceful statement, whilst Mystique looked mildly annoyed, but not surprised.

"Gambit can stay with me then, he might be some use," Mystique pursed her lips and looked over the Cajun intimately. "With the ship's systems," she quantified eventually. Gambit didn't bat an eyelid, but neither did he say anything.

"We need to find the prisoners and see if we can free them," said Stifle after a moment.

"Bridge first, then the prison levels, got it," Blaze pointed to a door on the left hand side of the corridor about eight paces away. "Through there should be a maintenance ladder. If we stay off the main corridors hopefully we won't run into anyone."

"After you," Stifle indicated that Blaze should go first. Steely determination glinted in the redhead's eyes as she opened the door, looked up and started climbing the ladder. One by one the others followed, with Wolverine shutting the door behind him and bringing up the rear. They climbed the ladder for three levels, by which time everyone's muscles were aching to varying degrees. Blaze then guided them down a tightly wound secondary corridor that she said ran parallel to the main access way to the bridge. There was another brief climb, and then they came up on the bridge from the left. Opening the door by a crack, Mystique and Stifle peered through into the expansive room full of technical equipment and flashing digital displays. More worryingly the room was also full of people.

Twelve men in uniforms worked the consoles and minded monitors. Five more of higher ranks were stood to attention whilst another addressed them. The speaker had his back to the X-Men so they couldn't hear what he was saying properly. Only when he finished and smartly about-faced did it become clear through the marking on his uniform that he was a well-decorated general, General Kincaid himself. Three of his senior officers left the room with him, whilst two others stayed and went back to work.

Knowing the necessity of clearing the bridge with as little disruption as possible, Mystique carefully assumed Kincaid's bulky form and obtuse mannerisms. Her face became angular and pale, her nose squat, her hair grey and receding. She bulked out to fill her military uniform with its array of badges and medals. Before the X-Men could react she was striding onto the bridge. Walking to the middle of the room without being noticed, she then cleared her throat.

"General?" one of the senior officers looked around, his expression bewildered. "Aren't you continuing your inspection?"

"Don't question your superior, boy," Mystique replied convincingly with a smile that showed Kincaid's yellow teeth. "Your men have impressed me today. If those nonessential personnel left their posts for the remainder of their shift, they would not be brought to heel for it. Understood?"

"Yes sir," the man replied. Around the bridge, Kincaid's men blinked at their leader, clearly unsure. Was this some kind of perverse test? Abruptly it seemed to dawn on them what had been said. Headsets were removed and consoles were abandoned as all but four of the men left the bridge completely. One commanding officer and three technicians remained. "That's very generous of you… sir?" Mystique dropped Kincaid's form and swung a roundhouse kick at the senior officer's head. He sprawled on the floor, knocked flying by the force of Mystique's attack.

At the same time the X-Men ran forward from their hiding place. Gambit and Stifle both disposed of a man each easily enough. Wolverine had a little more trouble with his as his target unloaded a clip full of bullets into Logan's gut. With a feral roar Logan let loose with his claws. He stabbed upwards, taking his prey under the jaw so hard that Logan's claws reappeared out of the top of the man's skull. Retracting his claws again Logan let the man slump to the floor dead. Blaze slipped a shoulder under Logan's arm to support him whilst his healing mutation kicked in, making the bullets pop out to clatter on the deck plate.

Mystique stepped over her victim, and went to place her fingers talon-like on the ship's controls. Stifle and Gambit dragged the bodies away and locked them in the room they had just come from. "Be good," Blaze warned Gambit and Mystique as she, Stifle and Wolverine made their way to a second maintenance ladder on the other side of the bridge. Gambit nodded to his protégée as Blaze closed the door behind them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze is mine, Marvel retain all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**Above and Beyond: Scene 9**

This time they climbed down, all the way down as far as the ladder would go. Still they weren't close enough, so Blaze led them through more meandering corridors. More than once they had to backtrack and hide as they heard the sounds of military issue boots marching closer. Every time they escaped confrontation by the skin of their teeth, but all three of the X-Men knew they were walking on thin black ice. Soon their luck would surely run out. Reaching a door labelled X-359 on the ship's lowest levels, Blaze stopped and turned to her colleagues.

"Holding bay observation room," Blaze whispered, indicating to the door. "Can you two take it from here?"

"Where you goin'?" Logan grunted, "Missing Gumbo already?"

"Hardly," Blaze replied. "Mystique said the kids aren't here, but I'll bet Kincaid has records showing where they are and who they've got. His office is six levels up, so I need to get going."

"Take care," Stifle told her, offering Blaze a solid handshake. Blaze returned it in kind. Their working relationship had come a long way with all they'd been through, but it was only now Blaze saw a shadow of respect emerging in Stifle's cold grey eyes. Blaze left the other two outside the door and disappeared into another room down the corridor. Stifle looked over at Logan, "You ready for this?"

"Oh yeah," grunted Logan enthusiastically, "Just try an' keep up."

Rather than bother with the complications of the lock, Logan skewered the mechanism with his claws, and then kicked the door open. Five bewildered operatives looked around from their computer stations, utterly confused. In the dark and windowless observation room, the flashing red, green and orange displays reflected off Logan's lethal claws as he swiped through the air. He attacked fluidly, a majestic predator of pure muscle and adimantium. None of his victims even had time to scream. By the time Stifle entered the room it was all over.

"I thought Blaze said this was an observation room," queried Logan as Stifle shut the door behind her. "What are they observing in here, besides eBay?" He tried pressing a few buttons on a keyboard, but the monitor screen remained unresponsive. Stifle meanwhile strode across the room and placed her hand on the wall on the left-hand corner, diagonally opposite Logan. As Wolverine turned to watch, there was a whirring noise as a motor started up. Stifle raised an eyebrow in Logan's direction as a fifteen-foot by eight-foot section of the wall opposite the door rolled away.

"Do try and keep up Wolverine," Stifle drawled with stereotypical British sarcasm.

"What the?" Logan mouthed obscenities as he approached the one-way glass. Whilst the room they were in was darkened, the room beyond the glass window was lit with bright white neon strip lights. There, in a massive chamber like a warehouse in the belly of the ship, laid out in row after row of clinical benches attached to monitor banks and drips, were hundreds of comatose mutants.

"Death row for mutants," Stifle muttered prophetically, feeling cold fingers run up her spine as though someone walked over her grave. "Keeping us tranquillised, unable to defend ourselves, subject to who knows what kinds of torture and humiliation…"

"We gotta get down there," Logan decided, "Try and find the X-Men and see if we can't wake 'em…"

There was a crash that cut through Logan's words. Stifle had picked up a chair and pitched it forcefully through the window. Glass shattered everywhere, as the chair fell to thud on the floor of the holding bay far below. Logan looked at Stifle as though he'd just seen here for the first time, "Nice."

"Thanks," Dell accepted the compliment with a small grin. Barricading the observation deck door with another chair, the two X-Men climbed through the broken window. They lowered themselves by their arms as far as they could before letting go, and then dropped the last few metres. Again the X-Men barricaded the door leading to the rest of the ship. There were no military forces on sight. Instead the high-roofed chamber was eerily still.

I have been in more lively morgues than this, Stifle thought to herself. Her footsteps echoed off the hard, reflective floor. She walked between the rows and rows of unconscious mutants, looking from one side to the other with a motion that made the beads in her plaited hair clatter quietly. Except for the slight movement of the mutant's chests to indicate they were still breathing, they could have all been corpses.

"I found Storm," Logan called out from across the room. Dell looked up and came running over. Ororo looked terrible, her lips were chapped and bleeding and her skin looked tight and drawn across her fine features. The drip running into her arm contained a viscous yellow fluid that plopped annoyingly from the bag suspended like meat on a hook above the weather witch's head.

"How do you think we wake her up?" Stifle asked, unwilling to speak any louder than a whisper. The air in this place was tense and atmospheric, almost like it was repulsed by Logan's earlier shout.

"I've got no idea," Wolverine admitted, "I never went to med school."

#It's a good job I did then,# an amused sounding mind voice commented, to Logan's obvious delight.

"Ilehana?" the Vixen chuckled inside his head, who else had he been expecting? #Babe, you don't know how good it is to hear from you.#

#Of course I do, I am a telepath you know,# replied Ilehana from the sanctity of Cerebro.

#You know what I mean Ilehana,# Wolverine pushed.

#I do,# Vixen admitted in reply, before turning Logan's attention back to the matter at hand. #Is there a med chart anywhere?#

"Ilehana Xavier, the Vixen?" Stifle asked, not having been privy to the telepathic conversation.

"Yeah," Logan confirmed to both women. He picked up the clipboard and chart that hung on the end of the trolley and flipped over the brown top cover. His eyes scanned the contents, and whilst he didn't understand the scientific terminology he felt Ilehana's growing affirmation that she knew what to do. It felt good to be able to hand all decision making over to his partner, and knew now that it would all be all right.

#Thank you for your confidence, I just wish I was as infallible as you think Logan,# Vixen murmured softly. If anything the contact between them became shallower as if Vixen was pulling back to protect Logan's high esteem of her.

#Babe, I will happily massage your fragile ego and anything else you can think of, but later. Lets get this nightmare over with so I can come home already.# Vixen gave Logan a wolfish smile at his offer. Logan managed a small smile of his own, before he asked, #What do I do?#

#They need a sharp stimulus or stimuli. Is Blaze around? Heat might do it.#

#No, she's disappeared to get information from Kincaid's records.#

#That's important too. Never mind, we will have to manage without her. First things first, you need to unplug the drip, gently. Use the butterfly clip on the arm, I can remove the needles later, seeing as there is no easy way to tell from here what a hash job they have made of inserting them.#

"Go find the other X-Men," Logan instructed Stifle. "You know what they all look like?" Stifle nodded and left Ororo's side. Logan did as he was told and detached the drip from the butterfly clip. Checking Storm's pulse, which was steady, he then moved to the head of the bed. To Vixen he said, #I got an idea.#

He tugged the sensors off Storm's temples and neck, and the equipment flat-lined. With his claws, Logan sliced off the covering panel of a monitor. Claws away again, he loosened the wiring out of the back with dexterous fingers. Taking two wires between his finger and thumb he gave them a sharp tug, pulling them free of their soldered moorings. The bare ends of the wire sparked as he put the bits of metal together.

#That's a good idea,# Vixen approved, #Just a brief contact though Logan, I don't want anyone electrocuted.#

#Even Cyclops?#

#Especially Cyclops.#

#Can I at least shave his hair off before I wake him?#

#Maybe,# Ilehana replied democratically, #Try waking Storm first though. If anyone is resilient to electricity, it's her.#


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze is mine, Marvel retains all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**Above and Beyond: Scene 10**

"I found Iceman, Beast and Jubilee," Stifle called form the other side of the room. "Want me to remove the drips?"

"Go for it," Wolverine growled, not looking up from Ororo as she lay before him, "Sorry Stormy." With gritted teeth he placed the two wire ends on Ororo's bare neck. The jolt jerked her clear of the trolley as Logan snatched the wires away again. For a moment that was Storm's only reaction. Then she took a great shuddering breath and her eyes blinked wide open. She gaped like a fish, unable to focus her eyes or form any words. Logan grasped her flailing hand in his and squeezed it tight. "Easy, Storm, easy," he told her reassuringly. "It's me, you're gonna be alright. Just rest, take deep breaths and you'll be fine."

"Lo…Logan?" Ororo stuttered.

"Yeah, I'm right here 'Ro. Rest first, I'll explain everything later," Logan said aloud. Telepathically he spoke to Vixen, #Can you talk to her whilst I wake the others?#

#Of course,# Ilehana replied.

"Logan, you'd best come look at this," Stifle announced, "I've found Cyclops."

"Don't tell me someone shaved him before I could get to him," grumbled Wolverine as he extracted his hand from Storm's and went to Stifle. He rued the joke somewhat when his eyes fell on the broken body of Scott Summers.

"All of them have injuries," Stifle reported softly. "Jubilee is black and blue, Beast's fur is scorched in places, Iceman's taken a beating and he has a broken leg that's not been treated. None of them even compare to this though."

Logan crouched down next to Cyclops' trolley at eye level with the other man's hands. Every finger had been dislocated and in the lack of treatment his hands had swollen red, black and blue. His face had been more or less pulverised and he lay awkwardly as though all was not well with his spine. Logan stood again and looked at Stifle, "Can you relocate his fingers if I hold him down?"

"Yes," Stifle nodded, and swallowed. She could do it; she'd just rather not be responsible for inflicting that much pain on Scott.

"#Ilehana can you help out?#" Logan spoke aloud to involve Stifle in the request. Vixen likewise addressed her reply to both of the waiting X-Men.

#I'll do my best, but he will wake up as you do this. The pain will be too much for the drugs.#

"Here goes nothing," Stifle said as she picked up Cyclops' hand, trapping his forearm between her upper arm and her side. With her back to Cyclops she tentatively explored the damaged joints as Logan put his weight on Cyclops' chest to keep him still. "Sorry Scott," Stifle whispered, and with a sharp tweak put the bone back into its socket. Logan had to put a hand over Scott's mouth as the proud team leader of the X-Men screamed.

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Whilst Mystique contented herself with driving the powerful and massive feat of engineering that was the ship back towards shore, Gambit paced the bridge. Through the great glass observation window he could see the rain-lashed foredeck and lightning snaking across the sky. Water trickled down the window from static bead of rain to static bead of rain, distorting the world beyond. How long this was going to take was anybodies guess.

"What's going on? Where is everyone?" a voice asked in the doorway.

"The storm's caused a feedback on some of the navigation equipment," Mystique replied in the shape and voice of the senior officer she'd dispatched earlier. "I sent a crew to check the relay tower, make sure its not been struck by lightning. Its pretty wild out there tonight."

"There's engineers on board for that, you should have…" whatever Kincaid's man thought Mystique should have done, she never found out. Gambit sneaked up silently from behind and grabbed the man's head, twisting it sharply until his neck audibly broke. Remy deposited the body in the side room with the others, and then grimly turned back to Mystique. "It getting' kinda full in there," Gambit shut the door with a thunk.

"Casualties of war," Mystique replied coolly, back in her own form again. "Its us or them."

"You really do believe dat, don't you?" asked Gambit.

"I believe in surviving," Mystique replied. "Everything else is of little importance to me. And you, Gambit, you're not so far from following in my footsteps. What kind of X-Man are you to murder a man without giving him a chance to fight back?"

"What about friends, family?" Gambit responded to her question with one of his own, attack with counter-attack. He wasn't about to bare his soul to this woman. "Surviving pretty damn meaningless if you ain't got nothing to live for."

Mystique went silent, her mind wandering to a time gone by. A time when she had felt a child growing inside of her, and later held in her arms. Had she felt alive then? Had her life held meaning? Or was that thudding in her otherwise desiccated heart just a replay of the adrenaline thrumming through her veins as she ran for her life, the child wrapped in a blanket and cradled to her chest? They could tear her apart, but they would not have her baby…Falling, he was falling, what had she done? No, he was alive, and worse than that he was with the X-Men. Her son…

"Mystique?" Gambit was worried about the vague expression on Mystique's face. "If you gonna go loco maybe you do it after we get the ship to port, oui?"

"I'm fine," Mystique snapped. Gambit stepped away again, raising his hands placating. He went to check the radio, just to give him something to do. When this is all over, he swore, I t'ink I'll bring this li'l conversation up with the Professor. I sure as Hell don't understand it.

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The office, when Blaze eventually got there, was in darkness. Her fingers found the light switch almost as soon as she'd shut and locked the door behind her. The room was about eight paces square, with a desk in the middle and bookshelves behind under an American flag. The desk was bolted down against rough weather, and the books were boxed in behind glass doors with locks. Blaze hadn't thought Kincaid looked like a literary man, which would explain the pristine lack of fingerprints on the crystalline glass.

Sitting down in Kincaid's leather chair, Blaze pulled his laptop out of the desk draw. It came on as she opened it, asking for a username and password in a pop-up box with a military logo. So Kincaid didn't even trust his own men. That was good to know. Blaze closed the laptop again and turned it over, looking for a USB port. The encrypted memory stick was Bobby's invention, and Blaze had faith the military defence mechanisms would fall short of stopping it.

Sure enough, when she opened the laptop the pop-up flickered, and then disappeared. The wireless network loaded and Kincaid's shortcuts mottled the desktop with its military logo embossed on it in blue and red. Flicking through a few files, Blaze soon realised there was too much information here to get through by herself. Time to call up reinforcements.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze and Shockwave are mine, Marvel retains all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**Above and Beyond: Scene 11**

Curled up in an office chair that dwarfed her teenage form, clutching a mug of hot chocolate and whipped cream, Sam Hawley was half asleep. It was an improvement for the pretty brunette, who wore her hair in a sleek ponytail with red bangs around her face. She sported a straight nose just like she'd asked the surgeon for, along with a truculent pout. She'd been an insomniac ever since her dad, Senator Michael Hawley, had first appeared in Court with the President. It was on all the channels, not just the news ones, and as a fugitive herself it was all getting a little overpowering for the usually optimistic Shockwave.

She was hiding out at mutant hacker Studd's mini-mansion, after Forge had rescued her and her friends from Kincaid's GRSO troops. Since then their numbers had swelled as Studd and Forge worked to track down as many of Xavier's school pupils as they could. Not all of them had been captured, and every day Forge brought back more, with the help of Sam's Dad's assistant Matthew Cooper.

Right now Sam was in Studd's secret lair, his cave of wonders. Actually a windowless room full of banks of computers, Studd too was working in here. That was why she'd come down here in the dead of night whilst everyone else was sleeping. Studd was good company, as he didn't talk to Sam like she was still a child. He involved her in what he was doing, telling her interesting anecdotes about his admittedly illegal enterprises. Stories that occasionally involved the X-Men Gambit and Blaze.

Partially asleep as she was, Sam's eyes were only half-open. Studd had his back to her, his wheelchair facing the radio frequency scanner he was tinkering with. In the corner of Sam's eye, something flickered on a monitor screen. Sam blinked, yawning without bothering to cover her mouth. Squinting, her tired eyes could make out two words written on the black screen in green typeface. They hadn't been there before. Putting her feet to the floor, Sam scooted her chair over to the monitor.

"Whoa," Sam exclaimed, "Now I know how Neo felt…"

"What's up Kiddo?" Studd asked without turning round.

"Um, this computer says ': Knock knock'," Shockwave glanced over her shoulder to the cat-eyed mutant. "Its it supposed to be talking to itself?"

"Ask for the password," Studd replied with only a flicker of interest. Sam obligingly typed in ': Password' and hit enter. Not two seconds later a third line of text appeared from nowhere.

"It says ': Bite me'," Sam told Studd. The man in the wheelchair spun round on one wheel, suddenly alert. Shockwave obligingly moved out of the way as Studd came over to see for himself. "No way," he breathed, his face breaking into a grin adorned with silver piercings. He pushed his thick black-framed glassed up his nose with a finger, rubbed his sweaty palms clean on his 65daysofstatic band t-shirt, then started typing a reply.

: Hey Hot Stuff! Long time no see. Take it those bad boys found you ok?

For a few seconds there was a delay where nothing happened. Sam tried to think of a way to politely ask whom it was Studd was talking to. She couldn't think of one before the screen flickered again.

: Keep up Cats-Eyes, that was so…yesterday. Or the day before, it's hard to tell. You got time on your paws?

Manners are overrated, Shockwave decided as Studd laughed aloud and started typing his reply. If this were a private conversation, he would have asked her to leave already. Sam took a breath, and asked, "Who is it?"

"It's Blaze," Studd replied with a chuckle. "Gambit and Wolverine must have tracked her down. Sounds like she's back where she belongs, in the thick of it." Looking at Sam sideways his fingers paused over the keyboard. "You wanna help her? She's got info she wants to send over. If I show you how to organise it so my search program can blitz it for things we actually need, can you do it?"

"I'll try," Shockwave replied hesitantly. "If Blaze doesn't mind. She and I aren't known for getting along famously." In reply Studd deleted what he was typing and started again, before hitting enter.

: Got an assistant all lined up and online. What we looking for? And where are you anyway?

: On the Titanic. Sending info now, see what you think. What assistant?

"All yours," Studd told Sam, rolling away again having set up what he wanted the teenager to do in the time it took Blaze to reply to his message. Within seconds Studd was engrossed in his radio again, pulling wires out of the casing like spaghetti with his fingers.

"You didn't answer her question," Sam pointed out.

"Introduce yourself," Studd suggested. "Use a nickname she'll know is you. We don't use real names or mutant aliases on this type of communication. The system's safe, but not that safe." Sam nodded and started to type.

: Hiya Firefly it's Politician Jr, aka Ringleader. Gang all safe. Hit me with what you got.

In Kincaid's office, Blaze leaned back in the chair and heaved a sigh of relief. Shockwave and her friends were all right and with Studd. That was the first piece of really good news she'd had since this whole thing began. Sitting upright again, Blaze started the process of opening and uploading zip file after zip file of Kincaid's work. She worked rapidly with key commands that typed out a rhythmic beat over the keyboard.

Back at Studd's, Shockwave also worked frantically to sort all the files that were suddenly appearing from who knows where. Not as adept at key controls, she sometimes faltered and got left behind. Frustration bit at the teenage mutant, making her scowl and grind her teeth, until finally she typed in : Slow down! To her credit the X-Man did exactly that, giving Sam a chance to get back on equal footing.

: That better? asked Blaze

: Much. replied Sam

"What's happening?" asked a male voice behind Sam. She looked up to see the human Matthew Cooper leaning over the back of her chair. With his classic American good looks hidden behind the mask of a frown, Matthew looked hard at what was flickering over the screen.

"It's Blaze, she's sending us information," Shockwave filled in.

"We should have enough now to do a keyword search Sam," instructed Studd. Sam obligingly started the search engine program running.

"Mind if I take a look?" Matthew enquired, dropping into a seat next to Sam.

"It's in this directory," Sam reached over to the adjacent computer and typed in the commands to open up the right portion of the network. Her hands brushed against Matthew's as she made her father's aide back off while she finished. Both of then pretended not to notice the contact. When she had done, Sam backed away to her own monitor. "Thanks," offered Matthew, but he didn't look over and she didn't reply.

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#Its alright One-Eye, you're with pack.#

#Thanks Claws, but will you tell that man of yours to lean off me. Either adimantium weighs a tonne, or he's been overdoing it on the burgers.#

In the holding bay, Wolverine did as Vixen instructed and let go of Cyclops. Stifle had finished relocating his fingers and had dressed his wounds in cold bandages to reduce the pain and swelling. Cyclops opened his eyes and let Logan help him sit up. His back creased with the pain, but Ilehana was sure that it was nothing more serious than bruising, and movement would be best for healing. The world swam and his head felt heavy and clumsy. There didn't seem to be a part of him that didn't hurt like Hell.

"Cheer up Cyke," Logan grunted, patting his teammate's shoulder gruffly. "Worse things happen at sea."

"Thanks," drawled Scott round a tongue that was swollen and lips that were lacerated. "Is my visor about? And can someone please get this contraption off my head?"

No sooner had he spoken than Logan's claws slit through the metal device that had been welded to Scott's head in a way that made it impossible to be removed any other way. The pieces clattered to the floor as Scott closed his eyes tightly. He felt gentle fingers guide his own visor on carefully. He opened his eyes to see Stifle frowning at him.

"Danielle? What are you doing here?"

"Just helping out," Dell replied, "You X-Men were getting a little thin on the ground."

As Scott blinked the world into some kind of focus, he eased his sore neck by slowly turning his head from left to right. Despite the bruising around his face, he still went white to see the endless benches and comatose mutants surrounding him. He licked his split and bloodied lips with a pale, dry tongue, wishing his head would stop spinning and everything else would stop hurting. It was as he asked, "Where are we?" that his gaze fell on a familiar figure, "Alex!"

"Who?" Stifle asked, turning to get a look at the blond twenty-something–year-old lying flat out three rows away.

"Cyclops' kid brother," Logan explained, putting a hand across Scott's body to stop him getting up. "Stay there and rest, Stifle an' me will wake as many as we can. You're ugly mug will only terrify people as they're waking up, alright?"

"Alright," Cyclops agreed, his eyes never leaving Havok's still form. "Alright, just wake Alex first okay?"

"No problem," Wolverine announced, indicating with a flick of his head to Dell that they get started on the next Summers brother.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze and Shockwave are mine, Marvel retains all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**A/N: Posting:** Just to warn everyone, my posting is liable to be erratic over the next few weeks and months, and my reviewing will be down to nil. I've had some bad new health-wise, so I've got big things going on in my own life right now. I will still be writing, coz it gives me great strength and relief, and I will keep posting, but please be patient with me if I am not particularily predictable.

**Above and Beyond: Scene 12**

In Kincaid's office Blaze was engrossed in the files. She'd found so much more than just prisoner and personnel listings for the different detention centres. She had obtained documents on political and legal wrangling going back years. Kincaid had not decided on this plan overnight. There were years of brainwashing by a core of names high up in Government intelligence communities and the military. With a little time and skill, Blaze reckoned the right person could have a whole host of well-known figures in public office hung, drawn and quartered for the paper trail she had in front of her.

So engrossed in the files was Blaze that she didn't notice the office door opening slowly. Kincaid moved with the silence of a python through the branches of a rainforest tree. He had the same controlled, muscular locomotion, the same intent and unblinking bulbous stare. He dropped on his prey just the same, as the doe-eyed redhead remained utterly riveted by what she was doing. Only when Kincaid spoke did Blaze freeze.

"So we have a sneak thief on board," Kincaid spat. "What the Hell do you think you are doing, you mutie scum-ball?"

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: CRH

"What does CRH mean?" Shockwave asked Studd as the three letters appeared in the message window.

"Caught red-handed," Studd answered, turning round to look at the screen. Sure enough, all the data transfers had ceased. Blaze had actually slammed closed the laptop and instantly severed the connection by throwing the device across the room and against the wall. As Kincaid scowled down on her, Blaze concentrated and the computer burst into flames.

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Studd announced, though he didn't sound certain. "She's had close calls with the police before."

"What about the military? Specifically the GRSO anti-mutant troops?" Matthew asked gravely. "These files are Kincaid's personal documents. There is enough information on the corruption he's part of here to… Well let's just say he won't be happy we've got our hands on it."

"Can we use it?" Sam demanded.

"Maybe. If we could get it to the President and his lawyers, they might be able to get the charges thrown out. But we can't get in contact with them," Matthew replied, meeting Sam's hazel eyes. For some reason the sparkle there worried him.

"The President is in Court every day with my dad," Sam pointed out. "All we have to do is walk in and give it to them."

"There's a warrant out for your arrest Sam, and for me too. You'll never get past all the police guards they have there, not without things getting violent," Matthew lectured.

"Won't I?" asked Sam wickedly. "Leave that to me, you just sort out what information we need to pass on from those files."

"Sam," Matthew argued, placing a hand lightly on Shockwave's arm. The more excited she got, the more he could feel her bones thrumming as her mutation bubbled under her surface. "Even if we could get the information through, the judge might still rule that as we can't release details of where it has come from, that it's not admissible as evidence. We might just end up arrested for no good reason."

"I want to try," Sam announced decisively, "I have to try, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't."

"Okay," Matthew shook his head slowly and gave Shockwave a thin smile. "We'll do it. Man, I just hope Blaze is alright…"

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After sweeping the laptop from the desk violently and setting it on fire, Blaze looked up at Kincaid. In her opinion, he was the definition of a charmless man, just being in his sights made her skin crawl. Placing her hands on the desk, she pushed herself up to stand. Her firepower lapped over her splayed fingers and filled the air with the smell of burning wood as the desk charred. Kincaid waited until Blaze was stood up and squaring off bravely against him. He had his hands behind his back and his feet braced apart. Quickly he brought one arm around in a snap motion. The metal baton he swung hit Blaze across the temple, and her world went black.

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Blaze awoke freezing cold and dripping wet. The wind whipped around her frantically, rain stung her face and her teeth chattered frantically. Her head swam and the colours she could see somehow didn't seem right. Held up by two GRSO soldiers, one on either side, a third masked man tipped a bucket of ice-cold water over her head. It whooshed in her ears and ran down the back of her neck between uniform and skin. Blaze cried out in pain and discomfort, though judging from the sodden mess of her long hair and how cold she was, it wasn't the first bucketful she had received.

The third soldier pulled away, and the other two dragged Blaze across the slippery deck. She made no effort to support her own weight, letting her feet drag as the two men frogmarched her to Kincaid. With the rushing sound of the wind and waves filling her ears, Blaze struggled against the dizziness that his earlier blow had left her with. Kincaid looked Blaze over coolly, taking a long last drag on a cigarette. Pointedly he dropped the stub to the deck, and then put his big military boot over it, grinding it out until it no longer burned. Blaze shuddered, knowing the analogy could not have been made clearer. Kincaid exhaled delightedly, and a malicious enmity crossed his face.

"Blaze," he began, drawing her name out like a poultice draws poison from a wound. "I have a few simple questions for you. How did you get here? Are you alone, or are Wolverine and Gambit with you? Answer me, or mark my words you'll suffer the consequences." Blaze drew a deep breath, and spat in Kincaid's face. He slapped her across the cheek with a vicious backhand, making her already scrambled head ring like a bell.

"Alright mutie bitch, lets see how long it will take you to die of exposure," Kincaid challenged. "I had my scientists so some tests while you were out cold. Their theory is, with your accelerated metabolism, it won't take long. And if you use your powers, the end will only come quicker."

The two men holding Blaze by the elbows and forearms turned her around and marched her back across the deck. Kincaid followed, as they tied her to an aerial mast with her hands above her head. Someone had already removed her gloves, now the two men also removed her boots. Her bare feet sloshed in the puddles on the water-strewn deck, ankle deep in freezing cold rainwater. Lightning snaked across the sky, reflecting off the barrels of the guns more of Kincaid's troops had aimed at her, like a firing squad.

Kincaid himself dismissed the two men who had strung Blaze up. He took a scalpel blade from a pocket of his uniform. With one hand he held Blaze's chin up, whilst the other caressed the blade professionally like a surgeon. Starting at her throat, he carefully slit her uniform's collar, working down her front. Blaze held her breath as he cut, not wanting to impale herself. He cut an eight-inch incision in her uniform, and then put the scalpel between his teeth. With both hands he pried open Blaze's collar, exposing more of her pale skin to the rain, wind and spray.

"Don't I at least get dinner first?" Blaze snarled maliciously. Kincaid ignored her, taking a ringlet curl of her hair and slicing it cleanly with the scalpel. Blaze recoiled as he took a lock as long as his thumb as a trophy. This man was as sane as a serial killer.

"One last time Blaze," Kincaid demanded, "Are you unaccompanied?" He didn't seem surprised that Blaze again refused to acknowledge the question. He turned his back on her and spoke to his lieutenants. "Search the ship," he told one of them, "Leave no room unsecured. Use caution, you know what happened in the desert in New Mexico?" The man nodded, saluted and left. Kincaid turned to his second minion, "Keep dousing her with ice water. Don't leave her unsupervised even for a second. That should help keep her powers at bay. With any luck we can draw Wolverine and Gambit out like mice with cheese." The second man saluted and turned to reposition his troops. As a parting shot, Kincaid called back over the howling wind to Blaze, "Enjoy your death, witch, I would have liked to go the whole way and burn you at the stake, but I suppose this'll be more effective."


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze and Shockwave are mine, Marvel retains all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**Above and Beyond: Scene 13**

"Have you got her?"

"Yes."

"You're sure this time?"

"Yes Logan, I'm positive," Stifle snapped. Wolverine shook his head a little and prepared his wires. This time when he touched them to Kitty's skin, he was ready for her to phase through them. He wouldn't be caught out again like last time. He needn't have worried, as Stifle had indeed quashed Kitty's powers this time. How Kitty had managed to employ her skill whilst unconscious, Logan had no idea. Ilehana however had a theory.

#Their scientist haven't put them very deep under at all. The unconsciousness in some cases even resembles what's supposed to happen in cases of hospital anaesthesia gone wrong. They are paralysed, unable to communicate, but more or less awake and certainly able to feel pain.#

The thought made Logan shudder. On the trolley, Kitty gasped and blinked her eyes. Stifle kept her hold over her as a precaution in case Shadowcat slipped through the table. Logan patted Kitty's hand as the girl looked up at him with a bewildered expression. Wolverine then glanced at Stifle, who nodded.

"That's all the X-Men," she confirmed, "Do you want to try and explain?"

"I'll give it a try," offered Logan. He left Stifle to help Kitty sit up. Going to the front of the room near the door, turned and faced them all. "Alright," Wolverine began with a growl that cut through a few conversations amongst the reawakened X-Men. "I know a lot of you are feeling pretty rough. I've got bad news, Ilehana's diagnosed that however crummy you're feeling, you'll live.

"We're on Kincaid's prison ship," Logan continued, "Heading into Seattle with Gambit and Mystique at the controls. This is Stifle for those of you who don't know, she's our British field agent and she's helping out. Blaze is upstairs in Kincaid's office trying to find out where the kids are being held."

"Why is Mystique helping?" Nightcrawler asked gently, rubbing bruises on his arms with his three-fingered hands.

"We said we'd wake the Brotherhood," Logan replied, looking over to where the Blob was laid out on the floor, seeing as no trolley bed would support that much weight.

"We are not going to?" Nightcrawler needed clarification.

"No," Logan replied crossly. "She can come down here and wake them herself. We've got to concentrate on getting all of you invalids off this stinkin' boat when we get into dock. How many of you can…"

Wolverine was cut off by the sound of someone thumping hard against the outside of the barricaded room. He half turned round, lips drawn back over his teeth in a silent snarl. Tensing the muscles in his neck, he let his claws slip through his knuckles. The doors and clumsy barricade shuddered as someone charged it from the other side. Wolverine took a slow, deep breath. If they got through here, all kinds of Hell would be let loose. He would see to it personally.

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Up on the bridge, Gambit and Mystique worked in silence. Concentration was evident on both their faces as they tried hard to keep the ship on the straight and narrow. The coastguard had started asking them for identification five minutes ago. So far they had remained anonymous, bringing the vessel in as a ghost ship. The weather had followed them in towards shore. Lightning cracked across the sky yet again. Gambit gaped as the white light illuminated the storm-lashed deck. Blaze was out there, in front of a firing squad and tied to a pole. As Gambit watched, a GRSO man threw a bucket of water over the fire mutant. Blaze recoiled, and Gambit winced with her, his anger brewing. He knew how repulsive Blaze found cold water. They wouldn't get away with this.

Splaying his fingers on both hands, Remy pressed them to the glass of the observation window. His adapted uniform gloves were missing three fingers. Instantly as his skin touched the glass his mutation kicked in. Across the surface of the glass tiny citrus and strawberry coloured lights flashed and sparkled. The glass started to glow, taking on Gambit's kinetic attack. All he had to do was charge it enough so that when he removed his hands the whole thing would shatter outwards. Shards of glass created in the blast would rain down on the GRSO troops below, and Gambit could rush to rescue his teammate.

"You fool, what are you doing?" Mystique snapped. "Blaze is…" Gambit argued, but Mystique was having none of it. "So far the storm has kept everyone oblivious to the fact the ship is moving. Look at the horizon; can you see the lights? That's the city. Very soon someone is going to realise what we are doing and come running. They will be all over us like flies on a corpse. We have to get the ship into dock. Nothing else matters."

Gambit slowly pulled his power back from the glass, leaving it undamaged. He turned away from Blaze's predicament and glowered at Mystique, "Why? Why is it all dat matters? What you got planned when we get into dock?"

"Kincaid's menace and insanity will be exposed. Mutants everywhere will see the pictures of this ship of horrors and refuse to take any more. Together the Brotherhood of Mutants, every likeminded mutant on the planet, will rise up and overthrow the humans who treat us like lab rats and worse."

Gambit cringed at the commitment in Mystique's voice. That, he thought, is exactly what we don't need to happen right now. He was about to tell her as much, when suddenly the whole ship trembled from bow to stern. The excruciating sound of metal plates scraping against each other filled the air. Mystique's face lit up. This was a surprise that even verged on pleasant.

"Time to make ourselves scarce," she advised Gambit, peeling her hands from the controls. Remy would have argued, but he saw the men on the deck below pointing to the fast approaching skyline of streetlights. A few of them had even thought to turn and look up at the bridge observation window. Gambit backed away from the glass gingerly, and followed Mystique out of the room. A few moments later and a gang of GRSO troops overran the bridge. They found the bodies of their colleagues, but no matter what they tried they could not adjust the ship's controls. Neither could they slow the runaway vessel down. It was heading into the harbour too fast. Worst of all, there was some kind of interference on all the radio frequencies. They couldn't warn harbour patrol or the coastguard. This was going to be a disaster of catastrophic proportions.

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"Grrragh!" Logan roared; as he single-handedly took out the few GRSO men brave enough to come into the holding bay after they had demolished the barricade. The men hit the floor in pieces, and no more followed through the double doors. One of the watching X-Men cleared their throat on the brusque silence that followed. Logan started to turn to look at them, but abruptly stopped. A frown crossed his face, and then became a deeply lined scowl. Stifle piped up, "What is it?"

"Everyone grab hold of something," Wolverine replied earnestly.

"Why?" Dell probed, feeling confused.

"Because I can't move," explained Wolverine, "Magneto is here…"


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze and Shockwave are mine, Marvel retains all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**Above and Beyond: Scene 14**

Out on the deck, Blaze had a perfect view of it all. By turning her head sharply to the right so much that her neck cricked, she could see the harbour lights surging closer. Panic overtook the men on deck. They forgot they were supposed to be torturing her and ran to the bow to see what was happening. Blaze took her opportunity and melted the tethers that held her to the post. Dropping her arms she briefly rubbed her sore wrists, then used a burst of her power to dry her sodden hair and uniform. Instantly feeling better she made a barefooted break for the cover of a helicopter on the deck and lay down under its belly to watch what came next.

The whole ship shivered and heaved like it was going to vomit, still racing on until the lights of Seattle closed about them. The ship finally succumbed to the forces of magnetism accosting it. Ever so slowly, and to the accompanying sound of sucking water, the ship started to lift out of the ocean. Some bright spark let loose the anchor mechanism, trying to halt the ship. Not only did it have no effect, it also appeared to mildly annoy Magneto. The pragmatic mutant terrorist simply turned the anchor in the air and tossed the metal object onto the deck. Its crashing impact crushed two GRSO men who could not move in time.

Blaze could only marvel at the majestic use of what must be incredible amounts of power. She caught sight of Magneto himself only briefly as he called the ship to him, standing on a rooftop in his cape and helmet. He had his hand extended out in the air, and Blaze could just about make out an expression of utter concentration. The colossal vessel flew over the city streets, dripping water as it passed around taller tower blocks. Then, just as Blaze was beginning to think Magneto had run out of ideas, he put the ship down. It was difficult to land a million tonnes worth of ship gracefully, especially on top of a municipal court building. The building was crushed as Magneto presented his evidence to the world. The impact reverberated through the ship, knocking men to their knees. In the prison holding bay, equipment fell to the floor violently. Fortunately the trolley beds were bolted to the floor so their occupants were safe.

Still helpless to move, Wolverine waited as the side of the ship suddenly opened up like a wound. Fresh air rushed in to replace the recycled gases that served this low part of the vessel. The beds on which several Brotherhood members lay began to tremble. One after the other, Pyro, Avalanche and Quicksilver were removed unconscious from the gathering, the medical equipment ripped roughly from their bodies. Sabretooth followed, along with Blob on a large slice of deck plate, as he did not have a bed. No sooner had Blob been taken away than Logan found he could move again. He heaved a sign of relief, as the ship settled into a more natural position without the aid of Magneto's powers. All the X-Men were looking at him, bewildered and in pain. Shaking his head, Wolverine crossed the expansive room to examine Magneto's hole as a possible exit.

"Oh crap," Wolverine grouched to himself as he saw a crowd milling outside the ship. Make than less of a crowd and more of a mob really. Reporters, TV crews and who knew what else mingled as far as Logan could see. Their enthusiasm was undimmed by the pelting rain that now reached the streets. "Deja vu much…"

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General William Kincaid rushed back onto the deck like a flustered bull. His face was red, his nostrils flared, his breath panting and his mouth open showing a red tongue. Leaning over the side of the ship, he saw the Brotherhood cronies being tactically extracted by magnetism. He turned to yell orders at his men to open fire, only to find a warm hand over his mouth.

"If you so much as squirm like the worm on a hook you are," Blaze told him in his ear, "I will make Hell seem like a walk in the park on a mild summer's day for you, understand?" In case he didn't, Blaze put her other hand in the small of his back. Calling on her powers she made his uniform start to smoulder. She took her hand from his mouth to let him answer.

"Yes I understand," Kincaid snarled. Blaze didn't reply as she removed his gun from its holster and tossed it across the deck. Kincaid seized his moment, spinning round and lashing out at the young woman. He punched her three times to the stomach and chest, knocking all the breath from her. A blow across her jaw with his elbow knocked her to her knees. He started to kick her too, intent on murder. Blaze sensed when a kick to her ribs took him off-balance. She dropped and rolled on her right shoulder moving away from him. Letting her momentum carry her to her knees, Blaze raised her hands and blasted Kincaid with a flamethrower-like explosion of raw firepower.

The press didn't know whether to surge forwards or back away terrified as a flaming figure of a man plunged from the deck high above them. His fall seemed to take a very long time; flames trailing like a comet's tail behind him. Kincaid crashed to the ground with a loud thwack and a surge of flames. Wolverine snatched the moment of distraction, leading the X-Men from the ship and into the rain-washed streets. "Where's the jet?" Jubilee gasped, panicking. The confused faces of the X-Men turned this way and that, looking for their trusty safe haven.

"About that…" Logan started, getting a better grip on Iceman who he was half-carrying. Dell was supporting Scott whilst the rest helped each other.

"Over there!" Kurt exclaimed, pointing to a dark but familiar shape ahead of them; the X-Jet.

"How?" Logan asked, looking to Stifle who shrugged. #Ilehana?# Logan thought, and felt his partner chuckle inside his head.

#Not quite,# Professor Xavier announced over his daughter's mirth, #Ilehana is in Cerebro, where she was better placed to give you her medical opinion. She is also convincing our GRSO guards that I am still at the mansion.# The gangway of the jet was open for the X-Men, led by Logan and Bobby, to enter. From the pilot's seat Xavier turned his head to greet them with a warm smile, "Welcome on board."

There was a tender moment when Jubilee and Kitty embraced their mentor, Storm and Beast could be seen blinking back tears. Somehow for all of them, just being on the X-Jet and in the presence of Xavier was like a homecoming. It was an end to the nightmare. Logan and Stifle got everyone seats, before Wolverine took the co-pilot's seat.

"Between you and me Professor," Logan asked quietly, "Just how did you get the jet back? What with it being outta fuel and even I don't know quite where I um…landed it."

"An old friend returned it to me," Xavier answered. "Fortunately apart from being empty of fuel, the damage you did to it is merely cosmetic. Even so, I think Ilehana will have some strong words for you when we get home."

At that point, Charles looked out of the window, frowning at the gathered crowd of press under the shadow of the ship. The police had arrived and were trying to impose some kind of order. The flashing lights twinkled off the raindrops on the windscreen of the jet. FBI agents were just entering the schism through which the X-Men had just left. Ambulance crews were ready to take the rest of Kincaid's victims to hospital. Carefully Xavier encroached in each of the officials' minds. He encouraged their sense of duty, watering it until it blossomed. It would not be a permanent change of character, though he was well capable of such a feat, but it would for now override any immediate prejudices against mutants. He needed to ensure that every mutant the X-Men left behind would get all the treatment they needed to recover from their ordeal. As the emergency services went about their tasks with renewed vigour, Xavier was struck with a profound thought. It would take time, but perhaps what they found in that ship of horrors would teach them more about how mutants were still human than Xavier ever could.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze and Shockwave are mine, Marvel retains all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!

**Above and Beyond: Scene 15**

A small group of GRSO men surrounded Blaze on the deck, running to avenge their dead leader. Blaze turned around from where she had been squinting through the rain to look where Kincaid had landed. There was a medley of clicks as the safeties were taken off the men's weapons. Blaze raised one eyebrow, pouted and formed a fireball in each fist. She only spoke one word of warning, "Don't." Without waiting to see if they heeded her, Blaze walked forward and passed between them. Not one of them tried to stop her. Barefooted she made her way to the bridge, where she was confused by Gambit and Mystique's absence. Xavier then gave her a brief telepathic nudge in the right direction, clarifying the situation.

Exiting the bridge, Blaze took a left and went down the corridor about a hundred metres. Descending a flight of steel steps she turned back on herself and ducked underneath them. Everything was quiet, apart from the creaking of the ship as it slid slightly sideways in its crater. Blaze suspected that the GRSO troops would be attempting to destroy the evidence of their crimes. Good luck to them, she thought grimly, they'll need it after this. Her hand found a door handle, which she tugged at. It opened outwards to reveal Gambit and Mystique in very close companionship in a tiny enclosed space. Blaze just blinked at them for a moment, before deciding, "I don't want to know."

She turned her back and started to walk away. Gambit called her name, and then dutifully trotted after her when she didn't respond. Only when he caught her up and started to insist that she had an overactive imagination did Blaze start to giggle uncontrollably. "Honestly Remy, the look on your face when I opened the door! Caught red handed in a cupboard with Mystique. Where's Logan when you need him to come up with a one liner?"

"You dare mention dat to anyone Cherie, I swear I…"

"You'll what?" Blaze giggled, tugging playfully on his trench coat sleeve to get him to stop and turn to her. "What will you do?"

"I don't know, but I'll t'ink of somet'ing Petite," Remy grumbled, brushing his hair out of his eyes with his palm. "Your uniform leavin' too much to the imagination for you?" He indicated to her slashed garment, a twinkle in his eye.

"This isn't half as bad as walking around with no boots," Blaze grumbled, tugging her uniform closed as much as she could across her chest. "My feet are so cold they are numb. I could stand in anything and not feel it."

"Nice t'ought," Remy grimaced, "How we gonna get outta here anyway?"

"Not a clue," Blaze chirruped cheerfully, "The place is swarming with police and there's no way down from the deck."

#Get to the deck and I'll airlift you out,# the Professor offered politely in both of their heads.

"#Air lift?#" asked Blaze as Gambit exclaimed "#You got the jet?#"

#Indeed,# Charles replied, #I'll see you both in two minutes.#

"Tres bon!" Gambit laughed, grabbing Blaze by the arm and coaxing her to run with him to the deck. "Time to go home, eh Cherie?"

"Absolutely," agreed Blaze, "And about time too."

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Mystique let Gambit and Blaze depart, before slinking from her hidey-hole back into the open. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she blinked her yellow eyes rapidly twice, and then strode in the direction of the deck. She had known him long enough by now that she could feel the tingling in the air grow as he approached. The ship groaned as the magnetic fields in the plate metal realigned themselves to propel him through the air. As Mystique arrived on deck, Magneto was just despatching the remaining few GRSO troops, flinging them to the ground far below. Mystique winced despite herself as the men's screams were silenced with a loud soggy crunch. Steeling herself she joined Magneto by the edge of the deck, and looked down on the chaos he had created out of her plan. They did such beautiful work together. But wait, all was not right…

"What's wrong with the television crews? Why aren't any of them shooting this?" Mystique demanded sharply.

"A chronic case of magnetic interference," Magneto replied with a cautious smile.

"Why?" Mystique argued, "Do you think I brought the ship in for the good of my health? We have to show the mutants of the world that humans deserve our hatred!"

"My dear your own eagerness blinds you," Magneto lectured, "All you would have shown would have been imaged of mutants beaten, unconscious and even dead. As a species, all that would do is embarrass us, prove that we are fallible and cause great humiliation. No," he looked back out over the crowd with a regal haughtiness to his face and posture. "People the world over will learn of this catastrophe, but they will not be treated to a gory parade of mutants leaving this vessel in various stages of death and decay like some freak show or horror film. Patience, after all, is a virtue."

"You're starting to sound like Xavier," grumbled the changeling. In response, Magneto pinned her with an angry glare. Mystique flinched, she had overstepped the line and she knew it. Somewhat appeased by her fearful reaction, Magneto offered her a hand, which she took. Magneto created a disk underneath the two of them out of the ship's deck. He used it to propel them upward and away, just as four FBI agents in padded bulletproof jackets and sporting handguns charged onto the deck shouting, "Everybody freeze!"


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze and Shockwave are mine, Marvel retains all rights to all other characters.

**Above and Beyond: Scene 16**

"I want you to take this with you," Forge instructed Shockwave, Vertigo and Matthew as they sat in the back of Forge's bashed-in van/workshop. "Here, hold it like this." He put a device like an extra large flashlight in Vertigo's palm, sliding a strap over the back of her hand. Sam narrowed her eyes at the black object, observing that where the bulb should be it was instead like Forge had put an audio speaker in the orifice. Vertigo asked the question all three of them were thinking, "What is it?"

"It emits high level sonic frequencies," Forge replied, "Too high for the human ear to properly hear, and yet that the brain finds distasteful. It should make people turn away and dismiss you rather than notice and stop you. I'm hoping it will help you get into the courtroom without cause for violence. Actually, I was inspired somewhat by your powers Vertigo."

"Let's see," Vertigo flicked the switch on the top of the box. "Eugh, I see what you mean Forge."

"That's repulsive, even though I can't quite hear anything," Sam moaned, "Like the audio equivalent of smelling dog muck."

"Or eating broccoli," Matthew winced. "Turn it off Ver." The white haired mutant obliged and the feelings of disaster abated inside the van. Forge looked pleased with himself. Matthew fastened up his top shirt button and tightened his tie. As he did, he spoke directly to the two girls. "You're absolutely sure about this? There's no going back once we get out of this van. We could easily be arrested and…"

"We know Matthew," Vertigo cut him off, glancing at Sam who nodded and added, "No going back. We have to get this folder to my dad." Sam stroked the brown paper file she was holding with one hand. Matthew nodded his agreement and went to open the doors at the back of the van. Morning sunlight streamed into the back of the gloomy vehicle, parked around the corner from the courthouse. At the front of the building, the world's press were gathered waiting for any news of the President's fate. Matthew intended to take the girls in the back door.

After offering both teenagers a hand as they stepped down from the van, Matthew took more of a chaperone role. Shockwave crunched the lock on the fire escape door at the rear of the building, opening it from outside. Vertigo went in first, switching on Forge's device and directing it in a sweeping arch down the back corridor. There was no one about, probably due to the court being in session. Carefully all three of the small team came into the building and shut the door behind them.

Matthew took Forge's device then, leaving Vertigo to concentrate on using her powers if they were needed. Sam kept her grip on the documents she carried tenderly. They walked from the quiet back corridor into an atrium that was busier with people from all walks of life. A few military types were around, but didn't seem to notice the wanted 'terrorists' at first. Sam felt the tension growing in her stomach like a tumour as they walked towards the courtroom door, looking neither left nor right. When people around them did notice them, they did it with distain on their faces. Sam kept mentally reciting that it was because of Forge's device. However it occurred to her that if the device wasn't working, the snarls people exhibited as she walked bravely past them might not be much different. She could almost hear the insult reverberating in the air, "Mutie."

The three comrades reached the door to the actual courtroom before the cry for security went out. The GRSO troops that had been loitering on the far side of the atrium suddenly looked up, hands straying to their weapons. Some know-it-all shouted, "Its Samantha Hawley!" whilst another challenged, "Stop them!" The troops stared forwards ferociously as civilians backed away. The three companions turned their backs to the courtroom double door so they could face their aggressors. Matthew looked down briefly and turned a dial on the top of Forge's machine, increasing the intensity of the frequency it emitted. He targeted it at the GRSO men as Vertigo lifted her hands and called on her powers. Welling up from the bottom of her stomach like natural spring water from the earth, Vertigo's power spilled out of her hands in a wave of rainbow coloured light. Her white hair seemed to billow around her as her eyes glazed over.

Affected by chronic nausea and vertigo, frightened and dissuaded, the GRSO troops hesitated just a little bit too long. Sam had the door handle in her grasp behind her and the door open before the GRSO troops had time to regroup. Vertigo shut down her powers as Matthew switched off Forge's machine. The three friends risked a glance at each other, before stepping over the threshold. In the courtroom, sounds of the kafuffle outside had penetrated the chamber. The lawyers had paused in their prognosticating, and silence had fallen over all the members of the public in the rows of seats. The President, Senator Hawley and the others accused of treason twisted in their seats to see who was entering the room. Everyone else followed suit. The door handle turned, and the door opened majestically.

Shockwave led the way, flanked a few paces back by Vertigo and Matthew. Chins up, shoulders back and pace a determined walk, they refused to be flustered by walking into the lion's den. Both girls wore fitted skirt suits with white blouses. Vertigo's was grey, as were her heeled shoes that clipped on the solid stone floor. Sam had chosen to wear red, hoping that the colour would help her stop proceedings dead. The file she held across her chest like a shield, whilst her other hand hung by her side. She would not give in to the butterflies in her stomach as she walked down the aisle to the front of the room, ignoring that every pair of eyes in the room was on her. They wouldn't stop her getting to her dad, not so long as there was a breath in her body.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the judge. Sam halted by the benches where the accused and the accusers sat, and looked up at the judge.

"Your Honour," she addressed him, flashing a winning smile and inclining her head respectfully. Turning to her left hand side she pretended not to see the President's confused glance, or the questions in the lawyers' eyes. Instead she looked straight to her dad and held out the file for him to take. Michael Hawley frowned, his brow crinkling deeply. Without saying anything to disturb the tense apprehension in the air, he took the file and opened it flat on the desk in front of him. Sam sighed under her breath. Everything would be better now.

"Arrest them!" someone on the team of accusing lawyers cried out. "They are in breach of curfew, no mutants are to enter government buildings!"

Sam frantically searched out Matthew behind her, looking for guidance. He raised a hand to tell her to stay calm, do nothing. They had known it would come to this. GRSO troops dived on them like gannets looking for fish. All three had their hands grabbed and pulled tight behind them. Sam couldn't help it, her mutation kicked in and her finger bones started to vibrate. A GRSO man called out wordlessly as he caught a painful taste of her power, letting go of her instantly. In retaliation another raised the butt of his gun and struck Sam across the head with it, knocking her to the floor.

"For pity's sake," cried the President, "They are just children!"

"Sir," Senator Hawley addressed the judge, looking up from the documents Sam had given him. "I think you'll be very interested in this new evidence."

"New evidence?" one of Kincaid's team of lawyers scoffed, "What new evidence? Whatever they've brought you Hawley, it's not admissible."

"I'll be the judge of that," cracked the judge, nodding to an aide to get the folder from Hawley and bring it to him. In the meantime, Matthew addressed the GRSO men holding him unambiguously.

"I'm not a mutant, so if that's all you're holding me on, you can let go." The GRSO men looked at each other, obviously hesitant. Matthew took advantage of a slightly slackened grip and wrestled himself free. Going to his knees he half-dragged, half-lifted Sam into his arms. She was coming to after briefly being knocked unconscious. He checked her pupils to make sure she wasn't concussed. Satisfied she wasn't, he poked at the skin on her forehead where the blow had struck. Sam hissed in pain and waved him away, already well aware she would probably have a huge lump on her head by tomorrow morning. Matthew offered her a reassuring smile, and then helped her back to her feet as the judge addressed them.

"Where did you get this information?"

"I'm sorry, I can't reveal our sources," Matthew replied sensibly. "All I can vouch for is its authenticity, your Honour."

"This is indeed enlightening information, opening a proverbial can of worms if you will…" the judge tailed off, flicking through the pages of information. Kincaid most certainly would not have bought his services if he had known all of this before the trial began. After what seemed like the longest silence in the courtroom, he concluded his statement. "In light of this new evidence, pending its further investigation and establishment of authenticity, as well as last night's drama in Seattle, I am hereby suspending this trial indefinitely. Mr President, Senators of the United States, elected representatives of the people, you are all free to go."

The judge's hammer clattered down with an air of absolute finality. It would have been a sombre moment, had not Shockwave and Vertigo whooped aloud and high-fived each other. The President and Senator Hawley stood together and embraced manfully, whilst Matthew just grinned through the chaos. It was over, truly over. With the President back in charge the curfews could end and wrongfully imprisoned mutants be released.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Rasa Rainboweyes owns Crystal, Blaze and Shockwave are mine; Marvel retains all rights to all other characters.

**Above and Beyond: Scene 17**

Outside the courtroom building the gathered press milled about excitedly. Something had happened, something dramatic. Maybe not as dramatic as a battleship falling out of the sky, but certainly getting there. When the doors finally opened wide, the President and his fellow accused descended the steps smiling and waving. The press went wild, thrusting their microphones into the President's face. Camera flashes spasmed in every direction, whilst TV cameras zoomed in unnecessarily close on the leader of the free world.

"Thank you, thank you all for coming," the President spoke evenly, holding up his hands to the mob. "My fellow Americans, evil and power-hungry individuals have sought to rip our country apart at the seams. Still we are not out of the woods, though through continued diligence and hard work we are claiming our country back. The trial today has been suspended following the submission of new evidence. My fellow accused and I are committed to the task of clearing our names entirely. Furthermore we would like to thank the heroes that have made this walk to freedom and to justice possible. That is all."

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"You hear that?" Bobby asked over the TV anchorman as footage of the President finished recycling on the news. "The President called us heroes."

Blaze and Stifle laughed, filling the rec. room with a sound not heard there in too long. Gambit and Logan glanced at each other, and then looked at Bobby. Iceman was reclining in front of the TV on the sofa, remote in hand as he lethargically flicked channels. He was bandaged, battered and bruised, and Vixen had him on a bucketful of painkillers, but that was no reason to let him get away with anything. Logan got the claws in first, "Bobby, exactly what heroics did you conjure up?"

"Yeah," Gambit continued, "We had to save your sorry frozen ass, mon Ami, we the heroes here, n'est-ce pas?"

"Hey, I did my part," objected Iceman. "You guys aren't gonna get all the credit."

"What part was that," Wolverine pestered, "Damsel in distress?" Bobby scowled at the feral man, but before he could come up with a witty comeback, Cyclops was inserting his two cents. Scott was also drugged up and bandaged like an Egyptian mummy, seated in a high-backed chair not far from Bobby.

"Let me get this straight," grumbled Scott. "The four of you; two thieves, one ex-brotherhood crony, and Logan of all people, formed an alliance with Mystique to come rescue us? Not only did you manage to get all of us out of that hellhole in more or less one piece, you also defeated Kincaid, exposed what he was doing on that ship, and got the information to the President to clear his name…" Scott tailed off, shaking his head.

"What's up Cyke? That too hard for you to get that thick skull o' yours round?" Logan griped; feeling insulted.

"I'm a little surprised, Logan, surely you can understand that?"

"Not really," Wolverine decided.

"We rock," Blaze decreed, exchanging a crafty look with Stifle who was perched next to her on the windowsill. Out of the corner of her eye she caught some movement outside. Turning around and putting her hand on the glass, Blaze's pretty face lit up in an honest smile. Jumping down off the window ledge she explained, "They're home," and went directly to the front door. Logan, Remy and Dell followed her out onto the gravel, as three government-owned coaches pulled into the drive. Jubilee, Kitty, Storm, the Professor and Ilehana joined the four X-Men from the house, as the doors on the coaches opened.

A swarm of bodies poured forth from the vehicle, all laughing and joking as they came towards the house and the X-Men. The school's pupils, without whom there would be no school, had been returned to the Xavier mansion. The X-Men found themselves surrounded, tearfully embraced by some of the younger girls, or tormented with clever one-liners the boys had obviously been working on the entire time they had been away. At the back of the group, Sam and Vertigo smiled wearily, as Crystal and Iona were embraced by their tutors Storm and Blaze respectively. Wolfsbane tentatively shook hands with her tutor Vixen, before both of them broke into wolfish grins that showed their teeth. Finally, Sam thought as she let Vertigo lead her into the gathering, it's all over. Finally things can start to get back to normal around here… Sam suddenly chuckled at her own thoughts. Normal? Here? Never! Normal is so overrated…

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"Thank you so much for your help over the past few days Stifle," Xavier told his British agent after the debriefing had ended and only the two of them were left in the War Room. "I am glad we could count on you."

"Anytime," Dell replied with a smile, shaking the Professor's hand firmly.

"Are you sure I can't persuade you to stay on longer and assist in getting this place back into fully working order?" Xavier asked. "We can always find use for such a logically thinking mind as yours."

"I'm afraid I don't have the patience to be dealing with so many walking wounded as the X-Men make up right now," Stifle grimaced. "If Scott moans at me one more time to move this or fetch that, I won't be held accountable for the consequences. No, I'm better off getting back to the UK. There's plenty of work for me there, cleaning up after Blaze's flying visit."

"I'm sure there is," Xavier didn't press Dell, knowing the woman's mind was made up. "You'll extend my offer of a new home here to the youngsters you and Blaze have been dealing with?"

"I will," Stifle agreed, "Though if I can get half of them as far as Muir Island for a check up and some Moira McTaggart mothering, I will be congratulating myself. They, like Blaze, have their own way of doing things."

"Very well," Charles sighed. "Then for now I will say goodbye, and have a safe journey. Stay in touch Danielle, you have friends here you know."

"I know," Stifle was sincere. "Goodbye Professor, and good luck bringing this place back to some sort of order."

"Stifle my dear, in this place 'order' is a mere myth, believe me," chuckled Charles.

"Well," commented Dell with a smile, "When you have residents that can walk through walls, or read peoples' minds, I suppose your myths have to come from somewhere."


	18. Series Epilogue

**Disclaimer: AU to X3!** Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze and Shockwave are mine, Marvel retains all rights to all other characters.

**Shades of Heroes Series Epilogue- A Conversation with Professor X**

"Professor?" Blaze peered around the door, hesitantly, hugging the wood. He still hadn't asked to see her, and Blaze didn't like feeling so insecure. She had things to say to him, things she couldn't bring herself to talk openly about in the X-Men's debriefing. She'd thought the Professor would sense this, know that she was holding something back, would be a leader enough to allow her to confide in him. So far he had not lived up to her expectations.

"Blaze." Charles beckoned her in with a sad smile. "I'm sorry my dear, I didn't mean to take so long to speak to you."

Blaze frowned at this, closing the door gently. Echoes of an older conversation rang in her skull. Butterflies writhed and fluttered in her stomach, and her palms itched with her apprehension. Something in the way the Professor regarded her with those kind sad eyes made her deeply uncomfortable. She took the seat that was offered and crossed her long legs in front of her. In blue jeans, black blouse and boots, she wore her hair up in a ponytail and sported minimal make-up for a change. The emotional and physical exhaustion that lingered over the mansion like a thick swathe of rain clouds was mirrored in Blaze's posture and the dark rings under her eyes. The Professor looked no more lucid than she did.

Dreading silence like she dreaded the grave, Blaze squirmed in her seat and looked at Xavier pleadingly with her big liquid eyes. Before he could form a question that would probe deeper than she was ready to go, she took a breath and started to speak in a rapid and anxious tone.

"Professor I need to explain. I haven't had the best judgement recently and I… Well I got involved with one of the gang you sent me to help Stifle with. By the time Gambit and Logan turned up, I'd lost track of what was really going on. No, that's not right. I never forgot you, I just forgot myself. Indigo helped me to forget, and I let him coerce me into using unnecessary force in an urban area. It was dangerous and started a riot. I never should have listened to Indigo, I never should have let him touch me or use his empathy on me. Yet I can't thank Gambit for breaking the hold Indie had over me either, he just doesn't understand that the way he manipulated me cut me even deeper than Indigo could ever manage… "

"Blaze, it's all right," Xavier raised a hand and brought her wagging tongue to a standstill. Moving his wheelchair, he took one of Blaze's warm hands between his soft, withered ones. He looked her straight in the eye and spoke gently in his most soothing tone. "I think we have to work this back to the very start."

"What do you mean?" Blaze asked cautiously.

"I have to accept my own responsibility for this sequence of events. I asked you to turn your charms on Pyro. I saw him as a weak link in the Brotherhood chain of command that we could exploit to get close to Magneto. I was so narrow-minded with regards to that goal, I did not consider the eventual effects on yourself."

"I can handle Pyro," Blaze argued, then realised that she was wrong. She fell silent, and Xavier let her be as she worked events through again in her own mind, and in her own time. He was right; it had all started with Pyro. She had felt wrong, unclean and unsure about herself all the while she was perpetuating that mission. But why, when she had exploited men plenty of times during her career as a thief? The question was echoed by the confusion in her voice as she next spoke, "At least, I thought I could handle Pyro."

"There was a tendency for both of us to see your sexuality as a potent weapon Laura," Xavier counselled. "Neither of us paused to consider the effect it would have on your self-esteem. I believe this has led to you attempt to seek solace with Indigo, and later with Gambit," he squeezed her hand tightly, as Blaze hung her head and bit her lip. "This is not your fault Laura. You have been through so much in the last few years, not least giving birth to and then giving up your daughter for adoption. These are deep-seated and poignant psychological traumas, no matter the circumstances. You cannot be expected to react to emotional situations now the same as you did when you were eighteen or nineteen."

"I should have been able to handle it," sobbed Blaze, slumping her shoulders and trying not to break down into tears. "I should have stayed in control."

"Blaze," Xavier enveloped his X-Man in his arms, hugging her like one of the smallest of his pupils at the school. There was no easy way to say this, even as he knew she was crying long-overdue tears. "I would very much like to take you off active duty for a while. I think it would be best all round if you took some time to yourself, and rediscovered that bright spark you have inside of you." Lifting her chin with a gentle hand he smiled at her tearstained expression of hurt and confusion. "I'm not rejecting you Blaze, don't think that even for a second. I only want what is best for you.

"Unfortunately," Xavier continued as tears ran down Blaze's face even faster, "With so many of the X-Men in various states of incapacitation with regards to active duty, it's not an option that is open to us. I'm going to need you to carry on, to maintain all semblance of normality for the children and be ready to respond to any backlash either political or terrorist from recent events. I promise I will work with you every chance we have to repair that fractured control of your emotions, if that is what you would like?"

Blaze didn't respond, she was too mentally exhausted, too emotional, to damn worn out to do anything now but accept Xavier's fatherly hug and cry out all her heartache and frustrations. If there was a lesson to be learned in these recent events, she couldn't see it. She couldn't see anything but her own weaknesses, her own failings. She could see nothing beyond her own humanity, and she hated every ounce of her that was human and weak. Blaze sobbed again, tears staining her face in the crisp morning light that streamed in through the Professor's office window, and wished that it would all just stop.

**#The End#**

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**A/N:** At the end of posting what has been about two years worth of writing, and redrafting as X3 came along a stole a handful of my ideas (great minds and all that!), this four parter has exhausted both me and Blaze alike. I've no more movieverse fics waiting in the wings to be posted at the moment, though as soon as I get time I will be redrafting L'Ange De Morte. In the meantime, for some light relief Blaze and I would like to point anyone who is interested to my X-Men Evolution fics, which are ongoing. I'd love to hear what people have to say about my fics- as always reviews are very much welcomed. Thanks, Lamby

PS. - Sorry Blaze...


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